Excerpt 1:From this close I could see the scruff growing in on his jaw area, it was dark blond too and made him look totally delicious.
Holding my shirt up with one hand he reached out with the other, gliding his fingers across my stomach, just below my ribcage. “Here?” he whispered, staring at the area.
I nodded, not bothering to glance down. The skin stung lightly as he caressed it. I didn’t care. Frankly, it could hurt like hell and I still would have let him touch it. Desire suffused my limbs, making them heavy. I felt goose bumps break out over my bare skin, and maybe I should have been embarrassed at my reaction because really there wasn’t anything sexual to what he was doing but my body sure as well acted like there was.
He frowned a little when my muscled trembled beneath him and glanced up. “Does it hurt?”
I shook my head, unable to speak.
“It’s just red. No blisters,” he answered, not looking back down at the “burn” but not pulling his fingers away either. Spencer watched me as he dragged the tops of his knuckles down the curve of my waist and moved across my navel.
“You burned anywhere else?” he rumbled in a low, throaty tone.
Man, I wish I was. I wished I could point out a thousand injuries just to give him a reason to not lift his hand.
“No,” I whispered.
He glided his hand over my hip and curved his palm around the dip in my waist, tugging me just a little bit closer. Just one step… that’s all I needed to take to bring my bare waist up against his body.
I tilted my head back when he bent, lowering his face toward mine. I anticipated his kiss, I craved it… part of me thought I might need it.
He stopped just inches away, his heavy lidded eyes spearing mine. “Nice drawers,” he whispered.
It took me a second to realize what he said, I was too far under his spell.
But when his lips turned up in an onery smirk his words penetrated my lust laden brain I gasped and leaped back, pulling my shirt from his hand and yanking it down over my “drawers”.
“Oh my God!” I burst out. “You are such a pig!”
He laughed. “What? I was paying you a compliment.”
I groaned, still yanking at the hem of my shirt. “You’re making fun of me!” I challenged.
He laid a hand over his heart and looked at me solemnly. “I do swear that no one wears polka dots like you do.”
I. Was. Going. To. Die. Of embarrassment.
Excerpt 2:The room was completely silent except for the light scrawling of my pen across paper. Maybe that’s why I heard the sound.
It was a low scraping sound, like wood rubbing against wood. I tilted my head, confused. It was an odd sound to hear in the middle of the night, something I might not even think twice about if it were daylight.
But it wasn’t.
A muffled thump overhead caused my entire body to tighten like a shoelace with a double knot. My head snapped back to stare up at the ceiling.
I was being crazy.
I was being paranoid.
Thump.
There was someone in the apartment!
A surge of adrenaline so powerful it blurred my vision for a few seconds rocketed through me. My brain tried to think as my body went into overdrive. That first sound, someone had opened a window upstairs. The thump was when that someone dropped their up-to-no-good ass into my house.
Still clutching the pen, I raced for the stairs, out of my mind with fear. All the times my mother told me I needed to get a landline phone installed haunted me in that moment. My only means of calling for help was upstairs, beside my bed, in the form of my smart phone.
She was never going to let me hear the end of this.
If I survive. The thought floated through my head like a vicious taunt. Another light scuffling sound upstairs had my heart thumping even harder.
My God, it might not be me they hurt!
I wasn’t quiet on my way up the old wooden steps. In fact, I sounded like a herd of elephants that needed to lose about twenty pounds.
Good.
It would draw all the attention of the no good dirty rotten bastards in here.
Come get me, assholes.
It was dark upstairs except for the nightlight that lit up the hallway. Against the long wall across from that light, I saw a dark, lurking shadow pass. I gasped and my blood pressure skyrocketed so high that my scalp likely should have blown off the top of my head.
Holy shit, this was scary.
But I had to be strong. I had to be a fighter. I was a fighter.
The intruder appeared at the top of the stairs, slipping out of my bedroom just as I cleared the top step. His body tensed when he saw me, and then he rushed me without warning.
One taste is never enough… Spencer Waller’s main purpose in life is to protect and serve. After spending years in the military, he gets a coveted spot on the Secret Service detail protecting the president. Spence doesn’t have time for women or all the work having a relationship with one requires. But just because he isn’t looking for a lady doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate a beautiful one when he sees her. And he makes it a point to see one in particular every single day. Elle Bond has literally chopped and fried her way to the top of the food chain. Earning a coveted position in the White House as the president’s personal chef, she figures her professional life can only get better. Her personal life, on the other hand, could use a little bit of an overhaul, and because of that, she tries to ignore the charm-dripping cookie thief every time he comes into her kitchen. After all, she knows better than anyone that just one taste of something good is never enough. One night after work, Elle is assaulted, threatened, and given an ultimatum. She can’t go to the police, and she sure as hell can’t do what she was ordered. But she has to. Or else. Pale, shaken, and scared to death, Elle confides in Spence, and his protective instincts take over. Together, Elle and Spencer have to uncover a sinister plot and stop it before someone ends up dead. Cambria Hebert is the author of the young adult paranormal Heven and Hell series, the new adult Death Escorts series, and the new adult Take it Off series. She loves a caramel latte, hates math and is afraid of chickens (yes, chickens). She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. She currently lives in North Carolina with her husband and children (both human and furry) where she is plotting her next book. You can find out more about Cambria and her work by visiting http://www.cambriahebert.com HOSTED BY:
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Lilly Hughes hates traveling, but her job requires it. Learning her flight gets grounded leaves her stranded with no place to go. Silas Harper is on his final stretch of R&R and just wants to get to his destination when fate intervenes putting him in the company of Lilly. Intending never to see each other again they settle for one night of heat and passion. Denying their undeniable connection they part ways as agreed, but will they stay parted forever? Or will a twist of fate bring them back together? Jaime Nicole Whitley is a wife and a stay at home mom to her two children. She grew up in New Jersey where she continued her education and became a medical assistant before moving to Las Vegas. She now lives in North Carolina where her husband is stationed with the Army. Jaime also co-writes novels under the name Lena Nicole. HOSTED BY: This is a very, very good book. It is emotional and well written. I got so into the story that at one point I wanted to slug Silas!! (When you read it you will understand.) Let's just say that the path of love is seldom straight.
I love the characters. Even the secondary characters are great! I love Megan, Declan, and Joe. They stand by Lily and make her laugh. What more could you ask from friends? Be sure to give this book a try. You won't be sorry! *** I received this book as a gift from the author in exchange for my honest review. *** Reviewed by Laura Life has been a roller coaster for Gabriel ‘The Saint’ Vega. From surviving a hellish childhood, to reuniting with his lost brother, only to hit the struggle of helping him battle his drug addiction. Boxing saved Gabriel’s life, and just when his career hits the fast track, he finally finds love with Salem; at least for a short time. Social differences, obligations, and misguided good intentions tore Gabriel and Salem apart before they could ever really get started. Will Gabriel be able to save his brother from the whirlpool of addiction that threatens to drag him under? Is Salem capable of breaking away from the ropes that bind her to doing what’s expected rather than what and whom she desires? Can Gabriel convince Salem that their mutual feelings are worth fighting for, and that together, they will be able to go the distance? “I love you, Salem Harris. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my lifetime. My heart beats for you, my body aches for you, and my soul would die without you. You are as important to my survival as the next breath I take. You’re the one, Salem, you… are… my one. What do you have to say about that?” My stomach immediately turns upside down at the admission of my true feelings for her. I’m on edge, waiting to hear her response to my confession. Born and raised in New England, Christa is a married mother of three. She began writing her first book, Broken, in October 2012, as a love story to her husband, Frank. During the writing process, Christa managed to keep her book a secret from the majority of her family and friends, including her mother. She finally revealed that she had written a book on her personal Facebook page just two weeks before Broken was released. Broken was released in February 2013, and within twenty-four hours of its release, it was on Amazon's Movers and Shakers list as well as in the Top 20 Erotica. Christa released her second novel, On the Ropes - Book One in the Down for the Count series, in February 2014. On the Ropes has also climbed the charts on Amazon, hitting the Top 10 Sports Fiction and the Top 20 Romance Sports Fiction lists. Book Two, Going the Distance, is slated to be released in the summer of 2014. Christa also has several other novels in the works, with no release dates announced at this time. HOSTED BY: Today is the day – the day that the man I love marries someone else. I don’t deserve pity or sympathy. I’ve made my bed. I left Mason and ripped his heart to pieces as I ran away. The guilt and sorrow consume me, threatening to choke me everyday. But today is a new beginning. Today is the day I will wake up with a renewed resolve and determination to do better … to be better … to be worthy. My name is Sara Preston, and this is my story about what happens after. I slide on my jeans and set out to find Sara. When I reach the doorway of the living room, I see her leaning against the kitchen counter, lost in thought. She’s wearing my shirt, and damn if that doesn’t make my dick twitch. She doesn’t see me, so I take this opportunity to drink her in. The sun shines through her mussed wavy brown hair, and the faintest smile is playing on her lips. She lifts her fingers up to her lips and closes her eyes. A soft giggle escapes her, and I’m mesmerized. Watching her in this private moment, I feel it deep in my chest. So deep, I find myself rubbing my heart to ease the pressure. Sara breaks out of her trance and reaches up into the cabinet to retrieve two coffee cups. When she lifts her arms, the bottom of my shirt raises up just enough to reveal a hint of her barely-there panties and the under curve of her delectable ass. God, this girl will be the death of me. I quickly and silently walk up behind Sara, unable to wait another second before I touch her. I wrap my arm around her waist, the other arm around her chest, and gently lick up her neck until I reach her ear. Her body quickly jumps at my touch and then settles into a sultry shiver that runs the length of her body. J.A. Derouen resides in South Louisiana where she lives with her husband, son (aptly nicknamed "The Professor"), and her furry friend, Scout. She has earned bachelor’s degrees in psychology and nursing. When she's not writing or inhaling romance novels by the stack, she works as a women's health nurse. She’s been an avid reader and daydreamer since childhood, and she's never stopped turning the page to get to the next happily ever after. HOSTED BY: TYLER (Inked Brotherhood, #2)RELEASE PARTY AND GIVEAWAY!WELCOME to the Launch Party for TYLER (Inked Brotherhood, #2)!!! TYLER is a New Adult contemporary (erotic) romance by author Jo Raven. It?s book #2 in the Inked Brotherhood series (coming right after ASHER) ? but can be read as a stand-alone title, as well. We?re celebrating the release with giveaways of ebooks and gift cards on Jo Raven?s author page! We?ll be celebrating all day, so join us to read steamy excerpts and teasers from TYLER and for the chance to win electronic copies of Tyler, Asher and others!SYNOPSIS Four years have passed since I left home, my parents, and my brother Asher behind ? since I shut out my past. And Erin. Four years since I last saw her, since I heard her voice and held her in my arms. I?ve spent my time forging a path from woman to woman, from bed to bed; trying to find an answer. But I think I?ve lost my way. There?s no light at the end of the dark. No big surprise. I carry the dark inside me. I?m a bastard ? branded as such from the start. I never give my phone number and address; I take my pleasure and don?t come back for seconds. No commitments; no promises and no happy endings. Yeah, I?m a bastard down to the bone and I don?t give a damn. But now I?m back in my birth town, the town I fled at eighteen ? back to make amends to the brother I abandoned and watch from afar the only girl I?ve ever wanted. Hope isn?t a currency I can afford; I learned that lesson long ago. Yet when she looks at me and says my name, I can?t help but hope. This is book 2 in the Inked Brotherhood series which started with Asher. It is a stand-alone work. No cliffhanger. The expected publication date is end July 2014, on all of your favorite e-book websites.ADD THIS BOOK ON GOODREADS!!!?EXCERPT ?Why?? I blurt out, to break the spell. ?Why what?? his voice rumbles, low and deep, sending shivers skittering over my skin. I can?t let his face, his scent, his body take away my reason. I came here to talk. ?Why did you leave four years ago?? His mouth flattens and he shoves his fingers through his unruly hair. Those broad shoulders roll in a shrug. That?s it? He thinks he?s off the hook that easily? No way. I push off the counter and get into his face?well, I crane my neck and almost rise on tiptoe, but it?ll have to do?and grab a fistful of his T-shirt. ?Why didn?t you tell me you were going? Why didn?t you ever call? Where were you, for chrissakes?? ?What do you care?? he says, so quietly I?m only sure he spoke because I?m looking right at his beautiful mouth. My grip on his T-shirt tightens. ?Are you seriously asking me this?? ?You told me I should go and never come back.? His eyes close briefly, and a pang goes through my chest. ?That I was a bastard and an asshole and wasn?t worth the trouble.? I let go of him and take a faltering step back. I did say those things, didn?t I? ?I?m sorry.? My hormones played havoc with my feelings back then, intensifying every feeling. ?What about you? Why did you leave instead of talking this out? I never got a chance to tell you I?m sorry, you just?? I bite my lip and let out a long breath, but it catches in my throat. Maybe he hears it because he reaches for me and trails his thumb down the line of my jaw. The gesture stills me completely as his dark eyes nail me. I see sadness there, and fear. What is he afraid of? ?I had to go,? he whispers and his hand drops away. ?You left town, Tyler. Left everyone and everything and nobody knew where you were. God, I was so worried.? My throat constricts; I can barely swallow. ?You were?? There?s a hitch in his voice, as if he doesn?t believe it. ?Yes, I was.? I?ve been so afraid for him for so long, I can hardly believe he?s here, alive and well. I reach up and slide my hand over his chest. It?s hard; solid. ?Why, Tyler? Tell me why you left.? ?I don?t wanna talk about it,? he grinds out. I want to bang my fist on his chest and slap his face. My fingers curl against the soft fabric of his T-shirt, and I feel his muscles clench underneath. ?Screw you,? I whisper and I hope my voice won?t break and betray me. ?That?s all you have to say to me? I?m not going to?? ?You?re so beautiful,? he whispers. Shocked into silence, I stare at him. His gaze is moving over my body, a hot, silky glide that steals my breath. His pupils are dilated, making his eyes look black. I try again. ?After all this time, I just want to know?? His hand hooks around my back, pressing me to his body and he bends his head toward me, dark hair falling in his eyes. His mouth descends on mine, sealing the words inside. The world falls away with a murmur as he kisses me. I gasp and his tongue pushes inside, tangling with mine. He licks at my mouth, and he tastes so good?like dark chocolate and pepper. Familiar. Thrilling. Sexy. I want more. I slide my arms around his hips and kiss him back. His chest vibrates against me as he moans and then he drags me closer, until my breasts are crushed against his firm abs. A tiny voice at the back of my mind is screeching in protest?this shouldn?t be happening, we should be talking, explaining, finishing this off?but it?s drowned in the rushing of blood in my ears, the thundering beat of my heart. His smell, his taste, the feel of his muscular body, it sends waves of scalding heat over my skin, through me, tightening the tips of my breasts, starting a pulse between my legs. I cling to him as I burn from the inside out; I desperately need him?need to feel him around me, against me, inside me. Everywhere where he?s been missing for so long.AUTHOR BIO Jo Raven writes New Adult erotic contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling to India and Japan.FOLLOW THIS AUTHOR! After centuries of searching, Lawrence has found the perfect person to help him birth a new race of vampires: Jocelyn, the girl he’s groomed to be the most powerful courtesan at the court of King James. All goes according to plan until Michael Barwick arrives at court and threatens everything. Michael abandoned his life at sea in order to take his place as Baron Barwick after his brother’s death. Overwhelmed by his duties, he’s eager to leave court until Jocelyn sits across from him in a tavern. The intriguing woman soon has him opening his heart to her, and he’s prepared to fight for a place in her life. Jocelyn’s desire for Michael, the one man who has ever fought past her professional façade to truly love her, threatens her independence. When Lawrence offers her the gift of eternal life, she must choose between the man she loves and the freedom she’s struggled for. Fates Entwined is a prequel and is intended to be read after Haunting Echoes. Chapter One Lawrence admired the amber and gold music box on the parlor mantle while he waited for Jocelyn to join him. A delicate golden elephant twirled as tinkling music floated through the air. The superb craftsmanship impressed even him, and he wondered which of her clients had gifted it to her. Lawrence noticed Jocelyn’s energy brushing against him, reaching out to him, before he heard her steps on the stairs. Her aura enveloped him in its warmth, the strength of its touch bringing a smile to his lips. The approaching young woman was unaware of the magnificence of her energy. Her ignorance made her all the more attractive, as did the fact that she was his. He had taken her raw talents and molded her into his most successful courtesan. “Lawrence, sorry to keep you waiting.” “Not at all, my dear.” Lawrence kissed her on each cheek then held her at arm’s length. “You didn’t have to doll yourself up for me.” Jocelyn’s dark blue dress with black lace trim brought out the shine in her auburn hair. A simple blue ribbon with a golden, heart-shaped charm accentuated her slender neck. A young maid entered with a tea service. Without having to be told, she served Lawrence a cup with two lumps of sugar and a little cream. After handing Jocelyn her cup, the girl left as quietly as she’d come. “How is Anne faring?” Lawrence blew on his tea. The maid was new to Jocelyn’s service and hoped to someday be a courtesan. “Well enough. I don’t know if she’ll make anything of herself, but she’s pretty.” “You should know that it’s not the looks that make the girl.” Jocelyn was beautiful in her own way, but there were plenty of women more attractive than her at court. Her eyes were hazel instead of the more desired blue, she refused to cover her auburn hair with fashionable blonde dyes or wigs, and her bosom was smaller than most men preferred in their paid company. But appearance could only take a girl so far. “She’s eager to learn, but she lacks patience.” Jocelyn took a sip of her tea. “If she’s not suitable, we can find someone else. There’s no lack of girls wanting to learn from you.” Lawrence’s tea was sweet, but it didn’t sate his thirst. He would need a real drink once he left Jocelyn. “Let’s give her some more time. I’ve grown used to her.” Lawrence nodded. “How was your night with the Marquess of Buckingham?” “George was wonderful, as always.” She held something back. There was a way she held her mouth and eyes, as if trying to prevent her emotions from showing. It worked well on clients, but Lawrence wasn’t a client. A decade spent studying her as he’d raised and trained her had attuned him to her physical tics as well as her energy. “He offered to install you as his official mistress, didn’t he?” Jocelyn sighed as she placed her teacup on the table and faced Lawrence. “Yes, he did.” “And you weren’t going to tell me?” “Why would I? I have no intention of accepting.” Of course she didn’t. She would never give up her independence to anyone. Lawrence exclusively held her strings. “Still, I should think something that momentous would warrant at least a mention.” “He knew what my answer would be. If I’d accepted, he would have lost interest. My refusal didn’t appear to dampen his affection. He’ll be here next Tuesday. I’m entertaining a few people to discuss The Pennylesse Pilgrimage by John Taylor.” “Good. I’ll put it on the calendar. Now, why are you looking so desirable tonight?” “I was thinking of going to King’s Head.” “You don’t have to go looking for business at the inn, dear. You’re more than welcome to take the night off. You have a masquerade the day after tomorrow.” It was no surprise that she was eager to exert her independence after having it threatened. The Marquess was a good man who genuinely cared for Jocelyn. He might even love her. He would have seen his offer as security for Jocelyn, but she would only see it as another man trying to control her. She had Lawrence, and he had done a good job of convincing her he was all she would ever need. “I know, but it’s fun. I promise I won’t overwork myself. You need to stop worrying, Lawrence. I’ll be fine. I enjoy the change of pace away from court.” “Then have fun. You’ve earned it.” ••• Lawrence licked Jane’s neck, his mouth watering in anticipation. A gentle pressure in his mouth released his fangs. The razor sharp teeth sank into Jane’s skin, releasing the warm flow of blood. Thicker than water, sweeter than wine, it slaked his thirst. The warmth brought life. Stolen life. Lawrence released her neck. Jane was one of his favorite whores. While Jocelyn’s success afforded her a private residence, his other girls lived in the brothel, servicing the crowds Hampton Court Palace drew. Lawrence had his own home, but he was rarely there. He preferred to make use of his suite in the brothel, where he could keep an eye on his girls and the comings and goings. He didn’t mind Jocelyn’s independence. He wouldn’t dream of using her services himself. She was too important to him. Lawrence kissed along Jane’s breasts until he reached the other side. As always, his victim was unaware of his actions. The venom in his fangs masked the pain. Jane would only feel a light pressure and sucking sensation. Nothing out of the ordinary in her line of work. He descended once again on her neck, taking a little more. Once Jane finished him off, sating more than just his thirst, she swayed drowsily to her room. Lawrence rose. For him, a bed’s only purpose was fucking. He had not slept in more than two centuries. He sauntered to the bookshelf, trying not to think of what he couldn’t have. Selecting the most recent medical treatise, he situated himself in his worn armchair to read. It took effort to concentrate on the words in front of him. Jocelyn was almost ready. He longed to feel her blood on his lips, sliding down his throat, to taste its tangy sweetness. But it wasn’t feeding he craved. No, the feeding would only be a precursor. She would be shocked by the truth of his existence, but he didn’t doubt she would join him. He would pour her blood back into her. Mixed with his venom, it would transform her into a vampire. His first daughter. Caethes Faron is a bisexual, genre-queer writer. Her books are equal opportunity, featuring gay, straight, and bisexual characters. Her bittersweet tales of love and loyalty are just as likely to leave readers in tears as smiles, and her love scenes don't fade to black. She enjoys empowering the powerless and exploring the nature of human relationships, especially in differing power dynamics. All of her books feature adults in adult situations. Foul language, diverse sexual situations, aspects of BDSM, and other things that are sure to offend some people make regular appearances in her novels. Caethes's writing is influenced by her observations of this imperfect world and the flawed characters who inhabit it. She's lived in seven states and is always looking for the next place to call home with her husband and two dogs. She currently resides in Florida. HOSTED BY: Four years ago, Frankie Rios walked away from her best friend and big sister, Iris. To Frankie, Iris died the day that she last rejected Frankieâs attempts at getting Iris alcohol and drug treatment. Rather than accept grief for her beloved sisterâs loss, Frankie turned to her music. A renowned cellist, Frankie has managed to ignore the pain and suffering of losing the person she loved most in this world. With Iris out of her mind and out of her life, Frankie was able to move on...or so she thought. Until Iris really died.
Weeping AngelsCristy Rey
Genre: Womenâs fiction, romanceRelease date: June 27, 2014Purchase LinksAmazon | B&N | iBooks | Smashwords Excerpt #1A woman hurls herself into the parking lot without even checking to see if a car is coming. Long blonde hair flies like a cape and she moves as though propelled by a rocket. Black, slinky heels flick off her feet, smacking into the asphalt with every rapid step. The scarf wrapped around her neck, despite this god-forsaken humidity, flaps over her shoulder. Any other day, I might have tried to stop her. If not, I might have fallen to the ground and covered my head with my hands, brought back to Afghanistan by some misapprehending synapse fire. But not tonight. Tonight, I merely stand by and watch her go. She stops abruptly at the edge of the parking lot and just stands there. Her back to us, she drops her arms to her sides and her shoulders slump. Iâm not sure what Iâm looking at, but whatever it is unfurls as I watch. A woman like that doesnât need to be crying at the end of the parking lot alone, and weâre watching like a couple of jackals who are just man enough to smoke outside a funeral, but not man enough to rescue her from herself. Iâm not sure what it is about her, but I canât stop staring, so I donât even try. I suck on my cigarette, taking the longest pull I can to give myself time to keep from engaging in conversation, when the woman slams her palms to her thighs. If she were any closer or if there was any less traffic on the highway, we might have heard the smacking sound echoing in the air. Even without sound, I feel it. A sonic wave crashes into my chest. My heart stops beating for a second in its wake. Through a stream of white smoke, I jut my chin to the woman. âWhoâs that?â I ask Jose. &nb sp; âThatâs Frances.â Heâs curt, and the sharpness when he says her name makes it sound like an offense. âI thought you knew her,â he adds, raising an eyebrow skeptically. Thereâs a silence between us as we keep our eyes trained on Frankie. For the life of me, I would have never known it was her had he not just told me. I wonder now why no one makes his or her way toward her. If thereâs a husband or a boyfriend standing about inside, someone needs to tell him that sheâs out there alone, grieving. âFrankie loved Iris. Sheâs probably taking this hard.â As soon as the last word has fallen from my lips, Jose chuckles humorlessly and again my eyebrows furrow. I can feel the anger lining my forehead. Jose brings the cigarette to his lips and smoke pours from his nostrils as he inhales and exhales simultaneously like a fuming dragon. He shakes his head as his gaze wanders back to Frankie. âFrankie loved Iris, thatâs true, but Frankie also disappeared and refused to come when Iris got sick.â âI donât believe you.â Shock slaps across Joseâs face when I declare him a liar. There is absolutely no way I can know if what Jose said is true or not. An ephemeral summer breeze catches her hair. When it passes, she combs her fingers through her hair and twists it into a knot that she promptly releases. Even though sheâs far away, I make out the shaking of her shoulders, as if she might burst. Iâve never felt as intimate with Frankie as I do right now. Sharing in her private, raw space is wrong. I want is to throw a curtain between her and the rest of the world. I want to put my body between Frankie and all the smokers, spread my arms, puff my chest, and yell out, âThereâs nothing to see here! Move along!âlike some cop directing rubberneckers forward in traffic. I take my first step off the curb so that I can go to her and do I donât know what, when she turns around and hugs herself so tightly youâd think it was freezing, when itâs actually a humid ninety degrees Fahrenheit. Her head tilts forward and her blonde bangs sway, falling over her eyes. She starts walking, slumped and dejected, in my direction. If a car whizzed by her, she might look up, but given by the way she ejected herself from the building, Iâm not fully convinced she doesnât have a death wish. So I do the only thing I can think of, I finish taking that first step and then take another.
Dreamcast
Excerpt #2What Frankie says breaks me. It breaks me. And it's not even about Iris or me; itâs about Frankie. Everything she said about Iris fills me in on years that Iâve missed. Even when Iâd been standing right beside her, I was ignoring what now seems so obvious itâs blinding. Yet, for all the talk about Irisâs alcoholism and suicidal tendencies, what Frankieâs opened up about is herself.</ p> Iâm not even sure she notices because sheâs so guarded. Never once has she reflected on what sheâs said. Sheâs been stating facts, telling stories. Thatâs what she thinks, anyway. I know this like I know myself, because itâs what I do. I state facts and I tell stories, and what Iâm actually doing is diverting attention from whatâs going on inside. Frankieâs all Iris this, Iris that, but what I hear is: I canât live with myself because Iris was never happy and I couldnât save her. Itâs what I hear inside myself every minute of every day, and my heart breaks for Frankie and for me. What I do next comes so naturally that it scares the living shit out of me. I donât let her leave. I hold her as close as I can because what I want is for her to be inside of me the way sheâs let me be inside of her. In this space and time, Frankie and I are one person. Iâm angry with her. Iâm aggressive about it, maybe even hurting her, but I reason that it canât be any worse than how sheâs been hurting herself by balling this all up for decades. As much as I need her to be close, I want to push her away. I want her to leave and never come back. I want Frankie to take flight tomorrow morning, and I want to be the one to deliver her to the airport because what Iâm feeling is something that Iâm not ready to deal with. I tell myself to let her stay here, to give her this space from death that she needs. Iâm surer now more than ever that we have an unbreakable bond, but I donât want it. We have right now and I need it right now, but I canât want to have it tomorrow. I canât want to have it ever again. Itâs like being with yourself all the time, but only with the ugliest parts of you. Itâs looking at all the broken pieces of your psyche and being forced to confront them. Thatâs what Frankie is to me. Thatâs what sheâs been to me all day if I cop to it. Maybe it was like that last night when I went out after her in the parking lot and walked her back to the service. Maybe itâs why I couldnât believe that she could be out there alone with no one to hide her sadness from the world. Iâm making up for it today, though. Right now, Iâm making up for leaving her naked and on a slab for the world to pick apart. The more I hold her, the more I fear that Iâll never be able to let her go, but I keep doing it because sheâs something worth saving and, if she can be saved, then maybe I can be, too.
Ten Fun Facts about Cristy Rey1. I am a librarian. 2. For the holidays last year, I knit a Cthulhu scarflette for my good friend, Dre. 3. I have harvested over 100 mangoes from the tree in my yard in the last three weeks. (Please, no more mangoes!) I donât even like mangoes. 4. My parents are Cuban. 5. I was a vegetarian and, later, a pescatarian for over fifteen years. Thanksgiving 2012 was the first time I had poultry, beef, or pork in half my life. 6. I thought of Weeping Angels as I stood at the funeral of a good friend â the real Iris â observing the mourners, looking at photos of a woman who didnât match the one I used to know, and holding the hand of my sister, her ex-fiancée. 7. My dog is named after Indiana Jones and Sherlock, and my cat is named after a comic book character by Roman Dirge and a poem by Edgar Allan Poe. 8. I am almost 6â tall. 9. I am a fangirl through and through: I read comics, I am a Whovian, I am a Sherlockian, I am committed to the Whedonverse, and I have a Fringe </ em>tattoo. 10. I make my own Halloween costumes.
Playlist
For Avery Montgomery, the devastation of losing her parents in a tragic accident has left her completely shattered. As she begins to pick up the pieces of her once perfect life, she uncovers a secret that will forever change her—she’s adopted! In a search for answers, Avery ventures to Portland where she rents a room from Jonah, a quirky artist who quickly becomes her best friend. His house puts her in close proximity to the metaphysical shop run by her birth mother, the free-spirited Marianna Hutchins. Avery enters The Crystal Moon fully intending to confront Marianna, but instead she chickens out and inquires about a job. She's hired; yet remains leery about confessing her secret. As Avery settles into town, she has an embarrassing encounter with Gabe, the incredibly attractive man who works a few doors down. Despite the awkward introduction, there is undeniable chemistry, but after a recent heartbreak all he’s looking for is friendship. Everyone deserves a second chance. Will Avery get hers with a new family? Will Gabe allow himself a second chance at love? Will they embrace their new relationships, or will they simply decide to take a rain check? Gypsy Rae Choszer grew up in valley below Mount Timpanogos where she watched the apricot trees in her backyard bloom every spring. When she was eighteen she packed her bags and ran away to the exotic locale of Mesa Arizona to begin the work of being an adult. Gypsy’s love of reading began as a child when her mom would take her to their local library and let her bring home stacks of whatever she wanted. This often lead to Gypsy reading with a dictionary nearby to explain words like “ass” and “bastard.” In her spare time she likes to explore photography, make jewelry, eat chocolate, and mix magical potions. When she’s not writing, you can find Gypsy hanging out at home with her husband and best friend, their three children, a neurotic dog, and four chickens. However, Gypsy knows her family will not be complete until she brings home a peacock and a goat. HOSTED BY: Release Date: August 26, 2014 Six years. Two break ups. One divorce. They should be over each other. Police officer and army reservist Rafe Minelli knows better than to tell his his wife no, particularly since they aren't married anymore. But when she decides it's time to leave Pine Harbour for good, he puts his foot down. Unfortunately, Liv doesn’t seem to notice. She keeps packing until a last-minute job offer stalls her out, and Rafe realizes he's got one last chance to make things right if he wants to keep her here permanently. Olivia Jackson can’t wait to leave Pine Harbour, but she’s just been handed her dream job in exchange for staying. Now she’s torn. If she leaves she’ll have to settle for a position with low pay and few prospects, but if she stays she’ll have to face Rafe’s renewed advances—and the ire of her ex-mother-in-law. Now Rafe’s pulling out all the stops to convince Liv he’s changed—and he’s worth taking another chance on. Liv’s working hard to keep him at arm’s length to protect her heart. Will love finally bridge the distance between them? Or will the next break up be their last?
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Zoe York is a busy working mom of two young boys, wife to a very understanding soldier, and creator of modern, sexy, small town contemporary romances. Her debut novel, What Once Was Perfect, started the popular Wardham series, and her first military romance, Fall Out, was released as part of the international bestselling SEALs of Summer super bundle. She lives in London, Ontario and is currently chugging Americanos, wiping sticky fingers, and dreaming of heroes in and out of uniform. HOSTED BY: Release Date: August 26, 2014 A deal was made centuries ago. The deal was for the first born in each generation. The soul of that woman was owned from birth by the ultimate beast. The Devil. Elizabeth Cromwell knew growing up that she was different. The day her parents failing business suddenly took a turn for the better in an economy where it shouldn’t have. She was told of her fate. She was owned by the Devil. From the day of her birth she had no future. It was his. Unwilling to give into the rough seductions of the ultimate evil—she ran. Living in a convent in the secluded town of Neive, Italy, with only the aide of faceless man over the computer—she hides. Until the day he finds her. Sex. Lies. Betrayal. The fight for her Soul and future begins now. *This story is not for the faint of heart. This is considered a Dark Romance between two people that should never happen. It contains content which may be deemed inappropriate for some readers.* Genre: Dark Erotica Age Group: 18+ Bonnie Bliss is the brain child of two authors. Bonnie is a husband and wife duo who have come together to weave stories of passion, action, betrayal, and ultimate surrender. They have discovered that mixing genres is their thing. Their tastes go dark, and they love to twist up sweet stories and make them a bit more tense and sexy. Bonnie writes in multiple genres with plans to dabble into more areas of fiction. One is a Southern California native, the other was born and raised in Yorkshire, England. The husband spends his time giving the wife alpha males with bite. He is a man that needs to see his world in print. He has a panty melting accent, loves listening to music, watching Game of Thrones, and obsessing over Heisenberg. The wife spends her time writing strong women that evolve into their power, they don’t just come out guns blazing. She claims the song California Girls, by Katy Perry is totally accurate. She’s done everything from waitressing, customer service phone rep., Corporate Real Estate, and spent a pretty impressive part of her life working for the Disney Corporation—before finding her way into the publishing world with her husband. HOSTED BY: |