Release Blitz: Tank By Carmen Jenner

Enter an unsettling world of volatile relationships, hot bikers, and even hotter sex that will have you on the edge of your seat and force you to keep a white-knuckled grip on your e-reader.

Killer. Criminal. Sociopath.

All of these words have been used to describe me, and for the longest time I believed that that’s all I was.

I’m the man you call in to clean up your mess, assuming your mess is a guy who needs a bullet to the head. I’m the man the MC calls when they want their dirty work done.

I’m the man who doesn’t feel.

Until now.

Until her.

Now my mess is a woman who won’t save herself. I’ll fight like hell to save her, but at what price to the club? And at what cost to me?

Warning: TANK contains graphic violence, profanity, drug use, and explicit sexual situations that may be a trigger and cause some readers emotional discomfort. Intended for an 18+ audience only. Not intended for pussies.
So I honestly didn’t think anything Carmen Jenner wrote would top the darkness and feelings that Kickhad brought me when I first read it, but holy shit Tank made Kick look like a light read. Please make sure you read the warning before starting the book because it is there for a reason, one that you will want to know to help prepare yourself.

Now this review is going to be very short and by now you know when I do that it is so I don’t give any detail away.  This time it is for that reason as well as I am having a hard time even finding the right words to describe Tank beyond dark, emotional, kindle throwing, holy shit what did I just read, couldn’t put it down, darker than dark, and just wow.  Tank is all of those and so much more.  If you loved Kick like I did than you will love Tank even more.  If you are a fan of dark romances then make sure you buy this one and prepare for the aftermath on your emotions this book will bring.


Purchase Links

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iBOOKS / B&N / KOBO
Kick Trailer

Excerpt


“So, the usual?” Louis asks.

“Yeah.” Tank intervenes by knocking Louis’ arm away when he tries to hand me a menu.

I glare at the obnoxious arse. “I don’t get to decide what I want?”

“Nope.” He smirks, and it’s quite possibly the millionth one I’ve seen today. “I know exactly what you want. You just need to trust me.”

“Okay then,” Louis says. “Coffee?”

“Yes,” I practically shout. “The strongest you have.”

Tank shakes his head. “Get her a latté.”

I swear if looks could kill, Tank would be burnt to a char right about now. No one takes my coffee from me and lives to tell about it.

“Your system doesn’t need any more stimulation.”

“It’s caffeine, Tank, not cocaine,” I argue. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.”

He shrugs, and Louis glances nervously between us again. He looks as though he wants to flee. Tank has that effect on a lot of people. Then again, it could be the fact that I just admitted to being a junkie and at any second he’s expecting me to break out my stash and start snorting lines off of his fancy table. Louis says, “Okay, so latté it is then.”

“No, I want—”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but your man is too scary to say no to.” He backs away from the table, shouting, “But don’t you worry, it’ll be the best latté you’ve ever tasted. You just sit tight.”

“He’s not my fucking man,” I shout back, drawing the attention of every patron in the room, which is really only two other people, not including Louis and Kerri. I look around sheepishly and then wrap my arms around myself, turning my attention back to Tank. “Stop fucking smirking, you arsehole, or I’m walking.”

“Try it and see how far you get, Warrior Princess.”

“I’m betting I’d at least get halfway down the street before you caught up to me.”

“You wanna test that theory?” He challenges with a grin, though his gaze warms me head to toe with its intensity. “My money says you’ll make it to the door before I drag you back to the table, put you over my fuckin’ knee and spank your arse ’til it’s red raw.”

I let out a deep, shaking breath and lick my lips. Jesus Christ do I want that. I want it so fucking bad. My nipples turn rock hard and Tank’s gaze drops to my black singlet. I’m suddenly hot, wet, and hyper aware of his lingering gaze. This man is going to be the death of me.

SAVAGE SAINTS MC SERIES
READING ORDER

KICK
TANK
JETT
GRIM
 Author Bio

Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA TODAY and international bestselling author of the Sugartown, Savage Saints, and Taint series.

Her dark romance, KICK (Savage Saints MC #1), won Best Dark Romance Read in the Reader’s Choice Awards at RWDU 2015.

A tattoo enthusiast, hardcore MAC addict and zombie fangirl, Carmen lives on the sunny north coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she spends her time indoors wrangling her two wildling children, a dog named Pikelet, and her very own man-child.

A romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture?

http://www.carmenjenner.com

Published titles to date:

Welcome to Sugartown (Sugartown Series #1)

Enjoy Your Stay (Sugartown Series #2)

Greetings from Sugartown (Sugartown Series #3)

Now Leaving Sugartown (Sugartown Series #4)

REVELRY (Taint #1) 

KICK (Savage Saints MC #1)

 Author Links
Giveaway



Release Blitz: Dirty Bad Strangers By Jade West

He calls me his dirty girl.
He’s just a caller, a sex line client, an anonymous pervert like all the others.
Except he isn’t.
He’s under my skin… his voice, his laugh, his twisted fantasies.
He wants to watch me with other men. Lots of other men.
He wants me blindfolded and bound and taken by strangers until I’m a used-up mess.
Then he wants to take me himself.
I should hang up, report him to my supervisor.
But I won’t. I can’t
… because I want him, too.

Gemma Taylor was born to be a chatline operator. Her filthy mouth and a filthier imagination make her hot property on sex chat. The hours are great and the money’s even better. She’s onto a good thing; finding her feet in the big smoke of London with a couple of old school friends.
Until he calls.
The rules of chatline are clear: no personal information, no breaches of confidentiality, and absolutely no other forms of communication of any kind.
So why is she giving him her number? Why the hell is she planning on blindfolding herself and leaving her door unlocked for him?
Gemma Taylor’s in deep.
And she’s about to get deeper.
Much, much deeper.
Warning: As with the other Dirties, this book is exactly what the title suggests. A filthy tale of unlikely romance, featuring group sex, bondage, and the usual kind of extremity readers have come to expect from the pen of Jade West. Definitely, definitely 18+. A strong disposition certainly a bonus
Holy Hell. I think I am finally speechless (insert jokes or sarcastic comments here ha ha).  Or maybe it’s wordless because I am really unsure how to review Dirty Bad Strangers by the wickedly twisted Jade West.  You know going into this series that when you read on of the books that it is going to be dark, it’s going to be dirty and at times raunchy, and it’s going to fuck with your mind while at the same time turn you on.  Or maybe that’s just me?  I admit I love dark book, and sometimes the darker the better.  Dirty Bad Strangers, for this reviewer s the hottest one to date, hell each have the ability to cause kindles to catch fire, but this one in my opinion beats the previous two. 
I do not want to give even the slightest spoiler away so I am going to end this review pretty quickly.  I will say a couple of things though.  I loved the connection that Gemma and Jason have, the fact that they share some of the exact same fantasies makes that connection even stronger in my opinion.  I freaking loved Gemma, I wanted to slap the living hell out of Jason at times and I could NOT put this book down.  If you have not read this series by Jade West yet and are a fan of dirty, let’s make that filthy, dark, erotic books then go get this series today.  If you are looking for a sweet romance then you need to pass this by because it is so far from sweet you would think it was sour.



(nook users please contact traystracy@hotmail.com to learn how you can  purchase ) 


Jade West is a contemporary erotic author, real life submissive, and former sex chat-line operator, who is plenty used to getting people all steamed up with her dirty mouth. Her debut release, Dirty Bad Wrong, smashed into the Amazon top 100 in February 2015, followed by Dirty Bad Savage in June – an Amazon top 100 bestseller in 4 countries. Dirty Bad Strangers, the latest tale of debauchery and unlikely romance, releases September 19th.


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Book Tour: Tyrant By T.M. Frazier

I. Remember. Everything.

Only now I wish I didn’t.

When the fog is sucked away from my mind like smoke through a vacuum, the truth that has been beyond my reach for months finally reveals itself.

But the relief I thought I would feel never comes, and I’m more afraid now than I was the morning I woke up handcuffed in King’s bed.

Because with the truth comes dark secrets I was never meant to know.

I will put the lives of those I love most at risk if I let on that my memory has returned, or if I seek help from the heavily tattooed felon who owns me body and soul.

I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist the magnetic pull toward King that grows stronger every day.

He’s already saved me in more ways than one. Now it’s my turn to do whatever it takes to save him.

Even if that means marrying someone else…

All right before I start I have a couple of things that I have to say.  First of all I will be swearing in my review, there is absolutely no fucking way I can describe this book without some creative swearing on my part.  You have been warned.  Second if you haven’t read King yet, stop, go buy that bitch and read it before starting Tyrantbecause you HAVE to read it first or you will be lost.  Got that? I hope so because my review begins right fucking now.

Holy shit, I knew from the first time I ever read a book by T.M. Frazier that she was going to have the ability to have me on the edge of my seat, panties dripping, cussing up a mother fucking storm and needing more of whatever it is that she has gotten me addicted to at the time.   I loved King, absolutely fucking loved that dirty talking bastard and even with the cliffhanger we were left with I couldn’t even be mad because I just knew that when we got the second book it would make all the angst, kindle throwing, panty changing, King cussing, Pup loving, tear inducing moments worth it.  When I started Tyrant I just knew the words: fuck, son of a bitch, mother fucker, damn it and asshole would be words that I threw out multiple times, and I totally underestimated the amount of times I thought by the time I was done.  Luckily my mom had my kids so they didn’t hear their mommy’s swearing creativeness during my reading.
Things you think you may have figured out, don’t plan on being right.  When Pup begins to remember her past, some things that she remembers could not only be dangerous to her but to King as well.  More than once I was shocked at what was taking place and more than once I cried, both sad tears and angry tears.  I am not going to give anything away, nor am I going to hint at anything, but there is one scene that is pretty dark, that will make you cry and want to commit murder.    Just know that when I say long live the mother fucking King that you will be saying the same if you love him even a fraction as much as I do.  Pup comes into who she really is and is the perfect balance for King.  Even a certain bow tied crazy friend makes his presence known in only the way Preppy could.  Someone else makes an appearance; someone that fans of Ms. Frazier’s books will know exactly who it is.  Bear will have his own book but know that King and Pup’s story is complete.
T.M. Frazier, oh you mind fucking bitch, I love you and your books.  I can’t wait for not only Bear’s story but for every other book your mind can create.  You are an author that is on my automatic buy list and that will never change.  If you haven’t read any of her books yet, OMG go start getting them because you will not be disappointed I promise you that.
5 Stars!

King snarled. “You seem to have forgotten who the fuck I am, Pup. So I’m going to remind you.” He pressed his hips against mine. “I’m the man who took you against your will and handcuffed you to my fucking bed. I’m the man who wanted you, so I fucking kept you.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you really think you have a choice when it comes to being mine?”

King lifted me onto the dresser and pushed himself between my legs, forcing my legs apart. He held my wrists behind my back forcing my shoulders backwards and pushing my chest into his. My dress rode up to the tops of my thighs. King pushed a strand of hair behind my ears and leaned in to me, his lips just a breath away from mine. The room was getting hot. I couldn’t breathe. I needed…I don’t know what I needed. “No more questions.”

I opened my mouth to argue. “Stop fucking talking,” he snapped.

King lifted me off the dresser and carried me and set me down in front of the full-length mirror that hung on the closet door. He stood behind me. A head taller than me and outweighing me by a hundred pounds, our differences had never been more obvious. His dark jeans and dark tank top were a stark contrast to my little white eyelet sundress. My pale skin next to his tanned. My white hair to his black. It was a sight that made my knees weak. Because although the reflection in the mirror made our differences obvious, it also made me see how well the two fit together.

 Haven’t read this series yet? 
Meet King & Pup in King (Book One)

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1B7H73R

T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and three feisty fur kids.
She attended Florida Gulf Coast University where she specialized in public speaking. After years working in real estate and new home construction, she decided it was finally time to stop pushing her dreams to the back burner and pursue writing seriously.
In the third grade she wrote her very first story about a lost hamster. It earned rave reviews from both her teacher and her parents.
It only took her twenty years to start the next one.
It will not be about hamsters.



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Series Tour: The Blyss Trilogy By J.C. Cliff

Blyss is something the world has been trying to create since the beginning of time, the ultimate aphrodisiac, a drug used against women with one single purpose in mind ….

Julianna Oakley has just finished up her junior year at college and flies home to spend her last free summer with her father on their prestigious Georgia estate. Julianna isn’t the stereotypical rich girl, a spoiled prima-donna. She’s down to earth and has an independent streak a mile wide, insisting she makes her own way in this world.

Nick has been setting the stage for a long time, and sparks fly when their separate worlds collide. She is Nick’s ultimate obsession, and he will stop at nothing to own her.

When Travis, Nick’s right hand man, lays his eyes on the prize, all hell breaks loose. He should know Nick is playing for keeps, and while Julianna is fighting for her freedom, a lifetime full of secrets and twisted perceptions slowly unravel as Julianna gets caught in the fray.


Learning how to survive in her new world, Julianna has no choice but to play “The game of Life.” Except it’s Nick’s game, and his rules apply. Captivity, drugs, and submission are the cards that are dealt, and it’s a losing game. 

Biding her time as she waits for her rescuers, it’s far from smooth sailing, because all too quickly the rules abruptly change as Nick takes matters into his own hands…

As the drama unfolds, and hesitating to interfere, Travis has everything to lose should he decide to step in, including his life.
 It’s opposition at its finest – freedom versus control as Nick and Julianna face the ultimate battle of wills.

While Travis has the uncanny ability to manipulate her with a single touch, Nick struggles to conquer her body, mind, and soul.
It’s every man for themselves as each have their own secret agenda, including Julianna, whose plan is simple: survive.

This is Julianna’s story. She lived a normal life until she was about to turn twenty-one, and then all hell broke loose. Years of diabolical scheming unraveling at the seams, unleashing torrents of lies and deceit. The whirlwind of chaos and heartbreak will forever change the game.

Her chosen fate is one of stellar proportions, and she struggles to keep sane, trying to hold it together every step of the way. As the matrix of her concealed past unfolds to deliver the final blow, rationality and sanity begin to take on a definition and meaning of its own.

Nick thinks he’s the night in shining armor while Travis believes he will be enough to save her from herself, but does she even want to be saved?

Both men want her. Both men love her, and both men want to claim her, keeping her for themselves. But, as usual, Julianna has other plans.

**The Blyss Trilogy: An Adult Dark Romantic Suspense. This contemporary erotic captive romance book is full of suspense, action, and adventure. This is a dark, erotic thriller that will have you hanging on to the edges of your e-reader as you wonder which alpha male you want to fall in love with. Will you be team Travis or team Nick?**


J.C. Cliff is an independent author who strives to deliver a strong story line, keeping the reader captivated throughout. She loves the element of surprise, creating unique twists and turns while creating thrill and suspense. Oh yes, and lets not forget, making a little explicit romance happen in between.
She’s a die hard 80’s rock’n roll fan, and loves a good concert! JC wears many hats. They include wife of 24 years, 4 children, small business owner, writer, reader, and what ever else is required of her. She loves taboo stories with twists and turns, and full of suspense. 
When she’s not writing mind-blowing twists and turns which include erotica, she likes to spend her time with her family and friends. Her pastimes include: offshore fishing, learning anything new, sewing, spending time at the beach, or the mountains.

Release Blitz: Devil’s Blood By Amity Cross

We would embrace the darkness together…
Or not at all.

Xavier Blood is a man adrift. And a dangerous man without purpose is a lethal cocktail for disaster. Mercy Reid has her revenge, but it’s not what her heart desires most.

After everything he’s been through, X doesn’t want to know where he came from, let alone who he was. Mercy has become his life, his anchor, his everything, so why should it matter?

Mercy thinks X is delaying the inevitable and pushes him to understand the thing he struggles with the most—his identity—but it might be one push too far in the wrong direction.

Who is Xavier Blood? Only one man has the answer and it’s the man Mercy wants to meet the least. The more X withdraws into his broken mind, the more desperate she becomes to save him, even if it means coming face to face with the man who tortured and conditioned her love to be a cold hearted killer.

The Watchman has the answers, but are they the ones she wants to hear?

I will admit I wasn’t sure if Devil’s Blood was going to meet up to the expectations I have set for this series.  I was a little let down with the last book, but obviously not that let down that I continued on with this series.  I have loved X and Mercy since book one and I kind of feeling like I have been through every step of their relationship with them?  Weird? Yeah I think so as well but this series is dark, its edgy, it is not for the faint at heart and it is erotic, oh baby is it erotic and I want to love it as much as I have in the past.  So the big question is did I?  Oh to tell you now or to make you wait on the edge of your seat to see what I thought? I suppose I can be nice and tell you now.  I loved it!  It reminded me why I love this dark edgy series and why I am so addicted to Mercy and X.  In an effort to not give away anything I am going to end this review now but I will say this.  Devil’s Blood will continue to keep you on the edge of your seats, will make you want to know the answers we have all been waiting for since the very first book and will in true Royal Blood series fashion mind fuck you so hard that you can’t walk straight.
Links to Buy

AMAZON US / UK / AU
Also Available
AMAZON US / UK / AU
AMAZON US / UK / AU
AMAZON US / UK / AU
Author Bio


Amity Cross isn’t her real name. That’s no secret.

She is the author of wicked stories about rock stars looking for redemption, gritty romances featuring MMA fighters and dark tales of forbidden romance. She loves to write about screwed up relationships and kick ass female leads that don’t take s**t lying down.

Amity lives in a leafy country town in southern Australia and can be found chained to her desk, held at ransom by her characters.

Don’t send help. She likes it.

Author Links

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

Blog Tour: Beautifully Brutal By Nicole Edwards

Sometimes love isn’t beautiful…
Sometimes the only way to describe it is beautifully brutal.
If you think you know him… You’re wrong.
If you think you know his family… Wrong again.
If you think you know his story… You don’t.
If you did, you’d likely wonder how the hell a man like Maximillian Adorite managed to make it to this point in his life. At twenty-nine, he’s experienced more than most people could only ever imagine, all thanksto his family. Organized crime they call it. Mafia.
No matter how they spin it, it comes down to one thing. Max gets what he wants. Except for the one thing he wants most.
Her name is Courtney Kogan.
And now that he’s had a taste of her, Max knows he’ll never be able to let her go.

The Southern Boy Mafia series is a spinoff from the Sniper 1 Security series. It has been set up to be read without reading Sniper 1 Security, however, the characters will frequently cross over.
Sitting down to type this review I knew I was going to have problems because while I am a huge Nicole Edwards fan, I had a hard time getting into Beautifully Brutal.  I have read Wait For Morning and was excited to find out this would spin off and connect the two series together.  I just wasn’t feeling like I wanted to be invested in reading this book that for me started off slowly and couldn’t hold my attention.  It took me longer to read this one than I ever have taken to read a book that I had been wanting for so long, but slowly I did read it and the further along I got into it I did begin to like it more.  I just never loved it and it is killing me to say that or more correctly type.
I enjoyed the feel of the Romeo and Juliet type thing that was going on but while I really did like Max because you just knew that Courtney was it for him from the start, Courtney I was never really able to warmed up to.  I think first impressions of her (although it wasn’t really a first impression per say since I did read Wait For Morning), caused my unmovable opinion of her.  She just came across very bitchy and for some reason it bothered me more than it usually does. 
I will say this, even though this one may not be my favorite from Nicole Edwards the heat level didn’t disappoint.  I can always guarantee that when I read any book by Nicole Edwards that the sex will be scorching hot and will leave me squirming in my seat. I do still plan on continuing reading this series because I think this may be an instance of my mood when I started to read Beautifully Brutal, and not the book itself.  
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1HkN9PS

Excerpt:
Courtney spun around, her gaze slamming into his.
“Check on me? Why the hell would you wanna do that?”
Because it was an excuse to see her. But that wasn’t what Max told her. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Courtney huffed as she returned to pouring the vodka into a glass, adding 7-Up from a can sitting on the table. Max’s gaze instantly strayed to the extra glass, and his frustration rose again.
She tossed him a glare over her shoulder. “Oh, you’re referrin’ to when you blew some guy’s brains out in the middle of your office? Don’t you have a dead body to clean up or somethin’?”
He didn’t say a word. His rule was that he’d never own up to anything. He didn’t feel safe anywhere that wasn’t home, never knew when someone was trying to trap him. And of all people, Max wasn’t delusional enough to believe Courtney wouldn’t turn on him with the right motivation. Ultimately, she was one of the good guys. And that was why they never had been able to find a middle ground. It was more difficult than it appeared considering they were at opposite ends of the spectrum—middle ground was just too far away for either of them.
Not to mention, arguing with Courtney was moot. Max knew from experience that she would never let up, which was why he’d given up long ago.
“Oh, right. You have people for that,” she continued, turning to face him again before taking a sip from her glass. “I’d offer you a drink, but then you might think you can stay.”
“I’m gonna stay,” he informed her.
Courtney’s eyes narrowed on him, and Max’s body instinctively reacted, hardening instantaneously.
“You’re not gonna stay,” she retorted, her tone clipped. “Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever.”
Max shrugged out of his leather jacket, folding it across the arm of the sofa as he moved closer.
“I’m serious, Max,” Courtney said, her eyes widening as she backed up until her ass hit the table. “You’re not stayin’. RT’ll be watchin’ my house until you leave. It’s not an option.”
Max continued to stalk her slowly until he was standing only a few inches away from her. Unable to resist, he cupped her face in his hands, enjoying the silky smoothness of her skin against his palms.
Damn, how he’d missed her. It’d been damn near a full year since the last time he’d touched her, since the last time he’d made love to her. Although touching her now … it was as though not a minute had passed since that fateful day.
“I’m stayin’,” he said softly.
Courtney shook her head, opened her mouth, but then snapped it closed. She wanted to argue; it was evident in the lines that creased her forehead.
Leaning forward, Max tested the waters, allowing his lips to brush hers lightly. Even that was nearly more than he could handle. It’d been too damn long since he’d touched her, tasted her, loved her. And fuck if he didn’t want to do it all again. Right here. Right fucking now.
 “Max, please,” Courtney pleaded quietly. “Please don’t do this.”
“Do what?” he questioned roughly, pulling back and allowing his eyes to slide over her beautiful face, down the slender column of her neck, where he noticed the rapid thump of her pulse.
“We’re through,” she stated, her tone holding a hint of conviction.
“So you’ve said.” In fact, Courtney had told him they were over many times during the year they’d been together. And for the year that followed, right up until this very moment, Max had thought about her every single day, about the way she’d ended things so abruptly the last time. Didn’t matter that he’d called her bluff and that had technically been the reason they’d gone their separate ways.
Had it not been for the crazy shit he had to deal with on a daily basis, he might’ve actually taken the time to play her games. But there was another problem with that. He was fucking tired of playing, which was the only reason he’d allowed her to walk away then.
And that was the real reason he was there tonight. He wanted to know whether or not this was truly over. For him, it wasn’t. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d ever be able to get over her. Probably not in his lifetime. But that didn’t mean that moving forward wasn’t possible. With or without her.
If she didn’t want him, he’d move on. He had business arrangements dangling in the wind, one in particular that was entirely dependent on where he stood with Courtney.
“Tell me you want me to leave, Courtney. Tell me to go, and I’ll never darken your doorstep again. You’ll never have to see me.”
Max could see the surprise in Courtney’s eyes, in the way her throat worked when she swallowed hard. He’d never made her that promise, never told her that he’d willingly let her go, although he’d spent the last year staying away from her. He’d had eyes on her the entire time; he knew every single move she’d made during those months. He knew for a fact that Courtney had never brought another man home with her, nor had she ever gone home with a man. Had she made that choice, Max wasn’t sure how things would be at this moment, but more than likely, there’d be another dead asshole buried six feet under.
The point was, she hadn’t.
“Tell me that’s what you want, and I’ll do it, Courtney. But know this … if you send me away this time…” Max took a deep breath, exhaled. “I won’t come back. Whatever this is between us, it’ll never die, never go away completely, and we’ll both have to live out the rest of our lives with the decision that you make right here. Tonight.”
“I want…”

The pause that followed stole the air from the room.
The following Books by Nicole Edwards are ON SALE
Conviction
 Addicted
 Entrusted
 Without Regret (Releasing July)
New York Times bestselling author Nicole Edwards launched her professional writing career in July of 2012. Having been an avid reader all of her life and a huge fan of creative writing, it seemed the likely path for her to take. Since then, she has released fifteen books and has no plans to stop. As her full-time career/hobby, Nicole writes steamy contemporary and erotic romances. Nicole is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who was born and raised in Texas. Married with three kids and four dogs, she has plenty of interaction to keep her imagination brewing. Her books have been featured in USA Today’s Happy Ever After segment as well as Indie Reader’s best seller list. She has forged her way as an independent author. Although she has a bachelor’s degree in Human Resources, she prefers to be hiding out in her writing cave, talking to the fictional characters that have built up in her head over the years. When she isn’t writing or plotting her next book (sometimes translated to “playing on Facebook”), Nicole loves to read and spend time with her family and her dogs.
Stalk Nicole Here: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads |

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Book Tour: King By T.M. Frazier

Homeless, hungry and desperate enough to steal, Doe has no memories of who she is or where she comes from.

A notorious career criminal just released from prison, King is someone you don’t want to cross unless you’re prepared to pay him back in blood, sweat, pu$y or a combination of all three.

King’s future hangs in the balance. Doe’s is written in her past. When they come crashing together, they will have to learn that sometimes in order to hold on, you have to first let go.

Warning: This book contains graphic violence, consensual and nonconsensual sex, drug use, abuse, and other taboo subjects and adult subject matter. Although originally slated to be a standalone, KING is now a two part series.

I had forgotten how T.M. Frazier can write something that is painful and yet at the same time it makes you fall in love with the bad guy, or in this case the King.  I am going to straight up tell you that this book is not a happy go lucky oh lookie unicorns and rainbows type of happily ever after, it is so far from that it’s not even funny.  It has drug use, sex, abuse, lies, violence and death, so if you don’t like or can’t handle those things in your books then I suggest you skip King.  However, if you are like me who loves a book with a darkness to it and has no issues about those things then I don’t think you will like it, I think you will love it.
King is an asshole, a bad boy, hell he could be the poster child for being the epitome of an asshole.  Look up the definition of asshole and his picture should be right there with it.  But, he is so much more, and when we can chip away at the walls surrounding King, you see that he is so much more than what people see.  He has a reason for being how he is, and he isn’t going to apologize for that and he shouldn’t. 
Doe has no memory of who she is, she’s homeless and is barely surviving.  She ends up at King’s coming home party with the hope of finding a bed and food and at this point she really doesn’t care what she has to do to achieve that.  When something happens and King collects her as payment she doesn’t know to be scared, pissed, or relieved.  She has a mouth on her that can get her in trouble in a heartbeat,  and she has no problems telling King what she thinks.  Slowly a relationship between them form and can see how these two have broken down their walls, that is until something happens that made me scream all sorts of profanities for a good five minutes straight.  I’m not saying one instance or a couple made that happen, this is something you will have to find out on your own.  And that ending, I need to get Tyrant right this second just so I can see what happens next, because yes there is a cliffhanger but luckily we don’t have long to wait for the rest of King and Doe’s story.
If you are a fan of T.M. Frazier’s previous books, I know I am, then you will want to read Kingright away because it will keep you on the edge of your seat wanting more.
Excerpt #1
“Hey there,” a deep voice rumbled against my ear.
When I turned around, I was eye level with a wall of leather with white patches sewn into it. One read VICE PRESIDENT and the other, BEACH BASTARDS. The man wearing the vest had long blonde hair that draped over to one side of his head, revealing the shaved area beneath. He had a beard, not stubble, a full-on beard that was a few inches long and very well groomed. He stood well over six feet, his frame lean yet very cut and muscular. I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were because his lids hung heavy and were slightly reddened. His entire neck was covered with colorful tattoos and when he went to light a cigarette I noticed that the backs of both of his hands and were covered in ink as well.
“Hey,” I answered back, trying to assert my newly found false confidence.
He was beyond attractive. He was gorgeous. If I had to end up in someone’s bed, I imagined that being in his wouldn’t be half-bad. He sniffled, drawing attention to the light dusting of white powder trapped in his nostrils.
“They call me Bear. You belong to anyone?” he asked seductively, leaning in toward me.
“Maybe…you?” I winced at my choice of words. Of all the fucking things I could have said, THAT was what came to mind? Stupid fucking mouth. Nikki was right. I spoke first and thought second.
Bear chuckled. “I’d love that, beautiful, but I got something else in mind.”
“Oh, yeah? What would that be?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light although my mind and heart were racing.
“This party? It’s for my buddy. And he was down here for a total of thirty minutes before he hightailed it upstairs to drown himself in a bottle of Jack. He’s like a cat in a tree, can’t seem to talk him down. It’s understandable, seeing as he’s been away a while, but I figure you can help me out.”
He hooked his finger into the front of my skirt and slowly dragged me toward him until my nipples were flush up against his chest. He pressed his fingers into the skin right above my public bone and I resisted the urge to jump back by biting down on my bottom lip.
“The BBB’s have never really been his thing.” He paused when he saw the confused look on my face at his abbreviation. “Beach Bastard Bitches.” He explained. “But you? You’re new. You’re different. You’ve got this cute little innocent thing going on, but I know you’re not or you wouldn’t be at this kind of party if that was your deal. I’m thinking he’ll like you.” Bear brushed his lips against the side of my neck. “So maybe you go up there. Make him happy for me. Make little him happy by wrapping those gorgeous lips around his cock for a while. Then when you’re done, bring him back down here to civilization. And maybe later, if you’re a good girl and do what you’re told, we can go back to the clubhouse and have some real fun.” He grazed his teeth along my earlobe. “Think you can you do that for me?”
“Yeah, yeah I can do that,” I said. My skin prickling from his touch. And I could do it.
I think.
“What’s your name anyway?” Bear’s hand slowly traveled up the back of my leg, pushing up my skirt, it came to rest on my ass cheek, which was then exposed to anyone who might have been looking in our direction.
“Doe. My name is Doe,” I breathed.
“Fitting.” He said with a chuckle. “Well, my innocent looking little Doe.” Bear leaned in close and surprised me by planting a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. His lips were soft, and he smelled like laundry detergent mixed with liquor and cigarettes. I was just beginning to think that the kiss meant that he’d changed his mind and didn’t want me to send me away to his friend, but no such luck. He pulled away abruptly and turned me around by my shoulders so that I was facing the stairs. He swatted me on my ass, propelling me forward. “Up the stairs you go, sweetheart. Last room at the end of the hallway. Be good to my boy, and me and you will get to play later.” He sealed his words with a wink and as I made my way up the stairs I turned back and flashed him a fake smile. I hoped the guy at the end of the hallway was like Bear, because then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Then a thought hit me that had me fighting back the tears that sprung from my eyes with a sudden force that almost took me to my knees.
I’d officially sold myself, and the price was far more than any dollar amount.
T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and three feisty fur kids.
She attended Florida Gulf Coast University where she specialized in public speaking. After years working in real estate and new home construction, she decided it was finally time to stop pushing her dreams to the back burner and pursue writing seriously.
In the third grade she wrote her very first story about a lost hamster. It earned rave reviews from both her teacher and her parents.
It only took her twenty years to start the next one.
It will not be about hamsters.

Stalk Her: Website, Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, and Goodreads


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Blog Tour: Amber To Ashes By Gail McHugh

 They were a storm I never saw coming, an unforeseen heartbreak on the edge of a dangerous cliff.

In AMBER TO ASHES (Atria Paperback; June 9th, 2015), Amber Moretti’s life changes in the span of minutes. An orphaned outsider, she is desperate to start fresh the moment she walks onto campus. In the time it takes to cross the university’s dining hall, she meets two men who bring color, air, and light to her darkened world.

They became my addiction, each a needle to my next hit, my high.

Brock Cunningham’s appeal is dizzying, a potent force Amber can’t deny. A green-eyed smooth talker, he instantly attracts Amber. It doesn’t take long for him to consume her every thought, her every breath.

Ryder Ashcroft, a blue-eyed, tattooed, and pierced bad boy, turns Amber off immediately—that is, until he kisses her, stealing a piece of her heart, her soul.

They were as opposite as fire and ice, yet I ached for them equally. 

Never knowing she could be broken down in so many unexpectedly beautiful yet petrifying ways, Amber finds herself falling for both men.

Immoral? Maybe. I say undeniable. Uncontained.

But one devastating event changes
everything, shattering each of their lives…and Amber isn’t sure she can recover from it.

I have been try to find the best way to word this review, and even now that I am at my laptop typing away I am still searching for the best way to word my thoughts and feelings about Amber To Ashes.  I am going to admit it took me a couple tries of picking up my kindle, reading pissed or upset before setting it back down again swearing I wasn’t going to finish it.  Then a couple days later I would repeat that same process and so on.  I don’t know if it was my mood at the time or what but I had a hard time getting into it, but then I finally forced myself to sit down and give Amber To Ashes an honest final attempt and I am glad I did.  I love a storyline that is filled with angst, love triangles, emotional roller coaster rides and smoking hot sex scenes.  So for me to take so long to get into a book that had all of these was strange.
In respect for the author I don’t want to give any type of spoilers away, I know some readers like spoilers and some don’t but I respect author’s and really try not to spoil anything in their books if I can help it.  I will say this, be prepared.  Be prepared to yell, scream, curse, cry, feel like your stomach is in a never ending knot because Amber To Ashes will do all of those things to you, multiple times.  Hell my own anxiety sky rocketed while I was reading and I am just reading the book, not one of the characters.  I can’t wait for book two to be released because I just have to know what will happen next.

I had tried to read this author’s previous series and got about halfway through Collide before I set it down, I still plan to go back because I know if I can work past my crazy emotions in Amber To Ashes then I will be able to continue on with that one.  If you are like me and may have had a hard time reading Amber To Ashes in the beginning, please pick it up one more time and give it that final last try because I know now had I not done that I would be regretting my decision down the road.
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 About the author:
Gail McHugh is the author of the New York Times bestsellers Collide and Pulse. She is the mother of three beautiful children and has been married to her husband for fifteen years.
Visit Gail online at:
Twitter: @Gail_McHugh
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Release Blitz: Wrong By LP Lovell & Stevie J. Cole

Tor 


My life was everything I wanted it to be. It was mapped out and planned. I wanted it all, the career, the right husband, the white picket fence and kids. Until he was thrust into my world, ripping me from it. My carefully planned life shattered, proving to be nothing more than a cheap illusion, and now I’m living in this twisted form of hell, where enemies and friends are one and the same. I thought I wanted perfection. Now I don’t know what I want – perhaps not even my own freedom.

Jude

I define wrong. I thrive on the corrupted greed of others, on their trivial hope, and their false optimism. I am the bookie, and the bookie always wins. For those whose hopes far outweigh the depths of their pockets, well, let’s just say paying with your life is not just a figure of speech.

I have always been in control, until suddenly I’m not any more. The day one of my collectors dragged her into my office as payment on a debt, I should have killed them both right there, but I didn’t. Now she threatens my control, threatens everything I’ve built, and yet I still can’t kill her. Why can’t I kill her?

By the time I’m done with her, she may pray for death.

Everything is not always as it seems. Lust, blood, lies…Nothing this wrong should feel so right.

If you are a fan of darker romances then I think you will enjoy Wrong.  It isn’t as dark as some of the dark disturbing reads that I have read before but it is it’s own brand of dark.  I am sure that doesn’t make sense to you but it does for me and will for you when you read the book.  This review is going to be short and sweet because I am really worried I will give away even the littlest details and I don’t want to do that.

I am going to just say there is angst, there is darkness, there is romance, there is suspense, there is vengeance, there is just a whole lot that will keep you on the edge of your seats.  My poor stomach and heart went on such a roller coaster ride I wasn’t sure if I would survive Wrong, let alone be able to continue on to the next book but yes a million times yes, I can and will.  Jude and Victoria have me addicted and needing more of all the things that had my heart racing and stomach in knots.  
Links to Buy 

AMAZON US / UK
LP Lovell

Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.

She’s a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.

LP Lovell’s She Who Dares series are all international best sellers.

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Stevie J. Cole

I love writing (obvious since I’m on here, right?) I don’t have a specific genre – I just write whatever story manifests itself inside my brain.

Writing is like therapy. There is nothing else that I can lose myself in the way I can a story. It amazes me that words can take you away from reality and leave you in a dazed state once you’ve finished.

Aside from writing, I love sloths and mythology. I kind of have a thing for vampires, because let’s face it, something about the fact that they fight the urge to bite your neck and drain the life from you is rather sexy. I have an irrational fear of the zombie apocalypse. I honestly cannot imagine a more horrifying way to go than by being ripped to shreds by a mass of mumbling, decaying, and oozing corpses with clicking teeth. Ugh! I just shuddered typing it.

Now the boring basics: I’m married with two wonderful children. I grew up in the south listening to a ton of grunge rock. Me and my sister have an obsession with going to concerts and getting front and center. We often fight over who can get the most swag from the band. I have an unhealthy obsession with Russell Brand’s mind, and the smell of crayons is the most soothing smell there is.
 

I hope if you read my work that you will enjoy it. After all, writing is the most amazing magic trick of all… it puts the reader in the mind of the writer (kind of creepy if you think about it). It’s scary inside my brain, watch out!

I hope you love my little worlds as much as I do.

Xx- Stevie J


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