Monday, November 20, 2017

Her Beast, His Beauty by Jenika Snow *Release*























































ROFUS

From the moment I saw her, I knew I couldn’t let her go.

For a decade I’d stayed secluded, my appearance and attitude frightening people, keeping them away. But I’d come to like that, grow stronger from it. And then she came into my life, a spitfire of a woman who challenged me and showed no fear.

I should have sent her away for her own good, but I was too selfish to let her go.

I wanted her as mine even though I didn’t deserve her.

BRITTA

I should have been afraid when he said I was his.

His heart had grown hard and cold, his isolation making him hate the world. He thought people should fear him because of the scars he bore, but I found beauty in them. I was just the housekeeper, but I couldn’t help how I felt for him.

Maybe he was a beast, a vicious animal hidden under a hard, powerful body. Maybe I should have run, but I knew he’d come for me, find me. Deep down, where I couldn’t lie, I wanted him to be mine.

And that frightened me most of all.

Warning: This is a sweet, fast retelling of Beauty and the Beast. But this isn’t the fairy tale you heard long ago. It’s packed full of hot, dirty bits that’ll make you squirm while you’re reading it. Don’t worry; it’s got that sticky-sweet Happily Ever After we all crave.










I didn’t care if I was crossing lines. I didn’t give a fuck if I should have stayed away, reminding myself she was my employee. I wanted Britta like a fucking fiend needing his next fix, and I wasn’t going to deny myself. I wasn’t going to practice self-control, not when I had her right here in front of me, her desire for me clear.
Truth was I wanted her to know that she was mine, that I would destroy anything or anyone who tried to tell me differently. Being locked away these last ten years, even though it was my own doing, had made me hardened. It had changed me, made me the beast everyone already thought I was.
Instinct controlled me and I found myself moving closer to her. She moved a step back, maybe slightly afraid, maybe because she didn’t know what I had planned. But this primal need was dictating what I did, propelling me forward until I wasn’t myself. And then I was right in front of her. I pulled her close to me and she gasped. I loved that sound, and wanted to hear her make it again when I was balls deep in her.
Emotions slammed into me, and I knew this wasn’t about me wanting to control her, to own her. I wanted her as mine, no doubt about it, but I wanted her to know that I was hers too. This was fast, fucking crazy in all senses of the word. But it was real, and I hadn’t felt anything like this before.
I should have been gentle, taken my time, made this a slow burn, but I couldn’t. I was too selfish for her, too primed for a taste of Britta.
And I’d have her, every fucking part of her.



















Jenika Snow is a USA Today Bestselling Author that lives in the northwest with her husband and their two daughters. Before she started writing full-time she worked as a nurse.



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Wicked Torture by J. Kenner *Blog Tour*

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Wicked Torture, an all-new sexy standalone from New York Times bestselling author J. Kenner is available NOW!

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Outwardly, Noah Carter is riding high as the tech world’s hottest new genius. Inside, he’s still reeling from the abduction of his wife and baby daughter eight years ago, and then the devastating discovery of his child’s body. For years, he kept up hope that his wife was alive, but now that she’s been declared legally dead, he’s thrown himself even more deeply into his work, cutting himself off from emotional ties because they just hurt too damn much.
Then he meets Kiki Porter, an eternal optimist with a killer work ethic and dreams of fronting a band. And everything changes. Even though he tries his damnedest to fight it…
Sexually, they are combustible together. But their true fire is emotional, though it is a slow to burn. But once it lights, it is all consuming. The relationship grows emotionally, the sex is hot, things are good.
But just when it’s looking like they might have a real future together, the past comes back to haunt them. And Noah’s going to have to decide what he’s willing to give up for love …

Excerpt:

  I lick my lips, waiting. Trying to stand still. Trying not to shatter under the riot of sensations he’s set loose in my body. And trusting that whatever he wants of me next will take me that much further. This is the Noah I remember. The man who held my pleasure in his hand. Who knew my body as well as I did. A man who could set me on fire with nothing more than a glance. Whose fingers worked magic on me, and whose cock filled me. Whose words set my imagination soaring. Slowly, he lowers his mouth to my ear again. And slower still, he whispers, “I want you naked.” A shiver cuts through me. I picture myself standing between him and the window. Seeing myself as he touches me. Feeling the brush of his clothes as he pulls me close. Vulnerable. His. Boldly, I reach back and unfasten my bra, then let it drop to the floor. I’m wearing canvas flats, and I kick them off. I hear him draw in a breath behind me. A simple thing, but the sound is just slightly uneven, and I know that he’s as turned on as I am. And that, frankly, makes it even hotter. I keep my back to him, but my eyes are locked on his in the reflection. I lower my hands to my slacks. They’re already unzipped, and now I slide my hand along the waistband, then shimmy out of them, finally kicking them aside. For a moment, I stand defiantly in my underwear, as if to turn the tables and make him plead with me. But the truth is, I want this, too. I want to stand naked in front of him. I want to see the heat in his eyes as he looks at me. That’s the power I have, and I want to wield it. I want to bring him to his knees. I want an explosion. Because there’s too much passion lingering between us. It’s wild and it’s dangerous and it’s combustible. And until we burn through it, it’s going to tie us together. And as much as I wish we could get back to the past, I know it’s not possible. We have to get past this thing. I know it; I’m certain of it. But right now I’m so damn grateful that the only way clear is through the man himself. Noah. For right now at least, I’ll take the moment. I’ll take Noah. And, I think as I peel off the panties and then stand naked in front of the mirror, I’ll take as much of him as I can get.

WICKED TORTURE AD_1.3 Read Today!

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2zpHMSQ
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2tfuFjN
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About J. Kenner

J. Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International bestselling author of over seventy novels, novellas and short stories in a variety of genres. Though known primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list, JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chicklit” suspense, urban fantasy,  and paranormal mommy lit. JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swoon for them.” A five time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy). Her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series (as Julie Kenner) is currently in development with AwesomenessTV/Awestruck. Her books have sold over three million  copies and are published in over twenty languages. In her previous career as an attorney, JK worked as a clerk on the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, and practiced primarily civil, entertainment and First Amendment litigation in Los Angeles and Irvine, California, as well as in Austin, Texas.  She currently lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and two rather spastic cats. J. Kenner

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*Blog Tour* Nightshade by Molly McAdams


Title: Nightshade
Author: Molly McAdams
Series: A Redemption Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense


She is chaos. She is poison. And she is the one thing I crave.


The heart-stopping final installment in New York Times bestselling author Molly McAdams’s Redemption series.
My life has never been my own. From the time I could walk, I was trained to be the mob’s hardened assassin. To be a monster. I’ve been told what to do, when to kill, and who to love. The minute I strayed, I lost everything.
Then I met Jessica.
She swept into my life like a storm of heartache, seduction, and intrigue. She’s everything I hate, but with one look, I can’t stay away. With one touch, she ignites a craving unlike anything I’ve ever known.
But her secrets threaten to destroy everything closest to me. Including her…
Together we’re poison. A destructive combination of darkness and chaos. And I want to savor every drop in my veins.

***The Redemption series is a series of romantic suspense standalones***

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA

iBooks | B&N | Kobo

Signed Paperback




The muscles in Kieran’s jaw ticked, and the anger rolling off his body suddenly felt like a living thing. But his stare never wavered from mine as I soundlessly opened the knife at my side.
“Or did I hit a little too close for comfort last night?” I asked, my voice both seductive and mocking as I took another step closer to him and then another. “Could you just not satisfy her?”
“Enough.”
My brows rose at the growl behind his demand. “Is that right?”
His eyes held so much warning as I took the last step to press my body against his.
My body trembled and begged to get closer still, but I forced myself not to move.
I hated him for the way he felt. 
I hated him for the way my body craved more and betrayed me.
I hated him for everything he was and for making me want him in a way I’d never wanted a man.
I hated him.
“Who knew the mob’s feared assassin was lacking.”
One second I was in front of him, staring into those wild eyes, the next I was pressed face-first to the wall with Kieran’s hard body caging me against it. His strong hands were pinning mine to the wall. My knife was gone.
His chest moved roughly against my back, his breath made my hair dance along my cheek and lips, and I ached to push against where I could feel his hardened length in his jeans.
Oh God.
What is wrong with me?
I tried to force a wild laugh from my lungs.
I tried to taunt him.
But there was nothing.
“How long?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.
I curled my hands against the wall and shivered beneath him when his body moved closer and he pressed our hands harder to the wall.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“How long have you been watching us?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
A huff tumbled from my lips when his mouth met my ear. The sound ended on a whimper when the movement forced my butt against his erection.
I needed the heavy, sickening feeling weighing my body down. I needed the disgust and hatred at having a man so close. I needed the reminder of who I was and why I did what I did.
But all I could smell was the subtle hint of his soap.
All I could see was his tattooed arms twisting over mine.
All I could feel was his lean muscles crowding around me in a way that felt so foreign and good.
And I wanted more . . .
Weak. So weak.
“How long?”
My body tensed.
If he had yelled the question, it might have been easier. But there was something truly terrifying in the soft tenor of his voice. And for the first time, I was afraid to be in the same room as him.
But I wasn’t scared for my life.
I was scared for my soul.
I slowly looked over my shoulder and forced myself to hold his disturbing stare. “Nearly half my life.”





A powerhouse romantic suspense that will have you questioning your morals and second guessing your view on love.
iBooks | B&N  | Kobo
A captivating romantic suspense that will keep you breathless until the last sentence.



Molly grew up in California but now lives in the oh-so-amazing state of Texas with her husband, daughter, and fur babies. When she’s not diving into the world of her characters, some of her hobbies include hiking, snowboarding, traveling, and long walks on the beach … which roughly translates to being a homebody with her hubby and dishing out movie quotes. She has a weakness for crude-humored movies and fried pickles, and loves curling up in a fluffy comforter during a thunderstorm … or under one in a bathtub if there are tornados. That way she can pretend they aren’t really happening.
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Friday, November 17, 2017

The Selkie's Tale by Nara Malone *Blog Tour*

Book: The Selkie's Tale
Author: Nara Malone
Genre: Virtual Reality/Romance
#TheSelkiesTaleTour
Synopsis
Seven tears cast upon the water summon the selkie, summon seal across the ocean, summon man from beast—liquid keys to break the curse. Freed one night every seven years, Ronin is doomed to repeat that cycle into eternity. Unless he can find a woman powerful enough to resist a selkie’s irresistible pheromones and sex magick.
Maille believes she lost reality between Maine and New Mexico. Between where she is now and where she should be. She believes in facts, not magick. But facts can’t explain how she wound up naked on a beach with the sexiest man she’s ever laid eyes on. Or how she knows in her bones that losing herself in the passion Ronin offers is a path to disaster.
It’s going to be a long, hot, wet night. Caught between sex magick and a sexy selkie, disaster is inevitable for Maille. To break the enchantment she has to rely on the oldest magick of all—the power of love-drenched hearts.
Buy The Book
Author Bio
Whether it's a shapeshifter romance exploring the primal power of the wild feminine, or BDSM romance where love digs into a character's shadows, Nara believes romance should open the door and push lovers into a new dimension: sexually, emotionally, and sometimes physically. 
Nara Malone is an award winning novelist and poet. As a freelance journalist and writer, her feature profiles on women entrepreneurs and her romantic short stories have been published in newspapers, magazines, and digital publications.
Nara lives on a small farm in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. When she's not writing, she loves to run, hike, bike, and kayak. Every story she tells incorporates her love of animals, nature, and adventure.
An Excerpt From: THE SELKIE’S TALE
Copyright © NARA MALONE, 2013
Tears.
Ronin was so tuned to the presence of a woman’s tears that he could swear he heard them fall. While hearing a tear hit the surf on the other side of the ocean was a stretch, there could be no mistaking the scent or the taste. Each woman’s tears were unique. These tasted of secrets and sorrow. Ronin held each on his tongue, decoding subtle clues and catching one after another.
Seven tears cast upon the water summon the selkie. Liquid key that broke the curse for one night. Sunset to dawn.
Ronin had twelve hours exactly on this night of Mabon, the autumnal equinox.
Obsidian black with foaming mane and tail, his liquid steed bucked and galloped across the Atlantic in the time it took a cloud to glide across the face of the rising moon. At the edge of Wolf Harbor, his ride dissolved into thrashing breakers along the jetty.
Seven tears summoned the beast across the ocean, carried the selkie to his intended on enchanted waters. Seven tears summoned man from beast.
The scent and taste of her—cool and crisp as new snow—washed through him, renewing his withered spirit. A vision of her tear-streaked face, framed in a wild mane of dark locks, was like a sun rising in his heart. Her need gave him power. Her hunger drove him up on the rocky barrier.
Metamorphosis clamped him in its jaws. Transforming Ronin form seal to man. He writhed and moaned like some great sea slug, belly down in a kelp pile. Bones shattered and reformed. Skin spilt at the seams until at last he crawled from the prison of his pelt. All indignities and agonies made bearable by the promise of holding her.
Growing taller with each breath, Ronin scrambled to his feet. Nothing equaled the sheer exhilaration and power of standing erect.
Ronin reached to the sky, and turning to face each of the four sacred directions, he named the elements. “Earth, wind, fire, water, I bow to your power. I am nothing on my own. Embrace the frailties and powers of this human form. Lend me your strength as I do the Goddess’s will.”
The wind carried a wolf song from shore. Tipping his head back, Ronin turned toward the moon, his voice rising to unite in song with his shape-shifting cousins. None but a being who walked the earth as both human and beast would recognize the subtle tonal differences and encrypted messages that signified the human souls beneath those canid hides. The pack leader’s solo answer welcomed Ronin ashore and promised no interference with his mission.
Satisfied, Ronin shook out his long hair and turned to face the wind. Heavy locks whipped back from his face and fanned out across his shoulders. A wave broke, colliding with the boulder he perched on. The resonant boom vibrated in his bones, cold spray making him shiver.
Maybe it was the remnants of the storm spinning up turbulence. Maybe it was the moodiness of autumn setting in, or maybe because it had been longer than usual since he’d last tumbled in clean sheets with a willing female, but tonight felt different.
Heat emanated from the water. Power dissipated by the goings-on at Shadowling, the magickal manor perched on the cliffs. The priestesses and their servants would be celebrating the Mabon, but the woman on the beach was not of them. Her tears didn’t carry the telltale electric zap of power. If she had power, it was dormant yet. Her summons had been born of innocent despair.
As such she was tonight’s innocent recipient of his eternal penance.
Shrugging off the mood, Ronin stashed his pelt under a cairn of loose rocks and dove back into the water. He had eleven hours and fifty minutes left. He wasn’t going to waste one second more than he had to. Still, he had to proceed cautiously.
She’d summoned him without knowing he existed, or the workings of his enchantment. Most women didn’t embrace strange men who walked naked from the surf.
Pity, that.