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Wednesday, February 25, 2015

SERIES PROMO ~ Consensual Series by Livia Jamerlan


Book One - Consensual

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21846630-consensual



SYNOPSIS
Braelynn Wolf is focused on two things: work and law school.

That is how she survives.
That is how she’ll make a difference.

Until she meets HIM.

Peyton Haas is sexy, dangerous, and forbidden. The defense attorney on Braelynn’s first legal case is the only man who can cloud her judgment. Unable to stay away, she finds herself lying to everyone around her so she can spend time with the man who makes her feel things she never felt before—things she never dreamed possible.

With the legal case hanging on a thread, can Braelynn ignore the relationship she has built with Peyton?

Or will she succumb to the man who has the power to throw away her future?

Consensual Purchase Links
Barnes & Noble:  http://bit.ly/1rKiQai





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Book Two - Coherent

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23122789-coherent

SYNOPSIS


A tragic past. A forgotten week. A broken heart.

When Braelynn wakes up in a hospital bed with a week of her life missing, she turns to the darkness that she didn’t know she craved.
Lost and confused she’s left empty.

Addiction. Fear. A broken soul.

Peyton Haas is self–assertive, determined to get what he wants, and for the first time in his life—in love.But is he willing to face the demons that haunt Braelynn?

Their love was like no other—steamy, heart–stopping… Beautiful.

It was the first time the either of them had let someone in. But one week was all it took to change their lives forever


Will their love be enough to keep them together?

Coherent Purchase Links
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/ZX1pMx


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Book Three - Contingent
COMING SOON - RELEASE MARCH 2015

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23588687-contingent


Contingent_FrontSYNOPSIS

Braelynn and Peyton are finally headed down a path without torment—until he allows someone else to come between them.

With the remnants of her broken heart scattered, Braelynn begins to piece herself back together, piece by ragged piece.

Peyton has dark secrets of his own. Secrets that leave him no choice but to walk away from the only woman he’s ever loved.

But his desire for Braelynn has him fighting between what he wants, and what he needs to do to keep her safe.

Love can only withstand so much. The connection between Braelynn and Peyton has been tested before—could this be their breaking point?





EXCERPT

She lay naked on the white linen sheet, her golden blonde hair fanned out across her pillow. She had been my all, the one to come into my life, cause havoc, and claim my heart. She had been my everything. My greatest desire. The fuel that pumped through my veins.
The sun beamed down on her skin, glistening on her flawless fair body. Almost flawless anyway.The marks from our recent times in the playroom were still visible, her wrists that were tucked under her chin revealing a crimson burn from her pulling on the restraints. Her plump breast scarred from the lashes of the flogger, and her upper thighs holding the same marks as her breast.I was terrified at the pain I had caused her, but horrified that I wanted to cause more.Braelynn had repeated over and over that she loved the marks and the pleasures they gave her. Since she had rejected my proposal, I began to feel that she was slipping away. The grasp I had over her was fading and my need for her had been replaced with rage and want. I needed to punish her for saying no, whip her flesh when I felt her slipping out of my hands. Though I was sickened once we were done, massaging the welts kissing them with my love, I reveled in her moans and her screams of pleasure made me hungry for more.She had turned me into the monster I now was. Possessive, demanding, and hungrier for her than I had ever been. Her arousal when I slid deep inside her had me on the brink of losing myself. The way she came around me, choking my cock … it was indescribable. But when she bowed her head, her blonde hair covering her face as she submitted to me, that had my inner Dom crawling out of my body, wanting to take full reign over hers.And I did.For the past six weeks she’d spent every night with me, letting me have full possession of her weak body. But the nagging voice in my head kept saying that our time was limited.“You’re doing it again,” she whispered, her voice filled with exhaustion. Her eyes peered open when she spoke.I leaned forward, kissing the tip of her nose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.“Yes, you do. You’re thinking so loud I can hear it in my sleep.”“Lynn—”“Stop it!” Her eyes flashed open, and a sea of green and brown specks pierced me. “You aren’t hurting me.”I shook my head, completely disagreeing with her. “Look at the bruises on your skin.” I traced my hand over her soft breast.“I have a safe word and I have yet to use it.” She pulled the cover over her blemished flesh and turned on her side.She hadn’t used it yet…But would she?
Teaser 2-2


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    About Livia Jamerlan

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Livia Jamerlan is the author of Divided. She is also a hopeless romantic who is always looking for her next love story to pop in her head. Though Livia kept a journal throughout her early life, she never thought about pursuing a career in writing. She always used it as form of therapy, pouring her heart out into words. It wasn’t until a story developed in her head that she decided maybe she could write a book. At first it was just an escape from reality, but now she uses it as a power to put all her feelings, hopes, and fears on paper. Deciding it was time to tell her story, she began to write. With each passing day the story grew, characters were formed, and what seemed like a hobby at first has now become a passion for Livia.

She is a New Jersey Native who loves spending time with her husband and two dogs Buddy and Daisy. When she is not writing or hiding behind her Kindle, you can find her with outside, gardening, at a local shopping center enjoying some retail therapy, or enjoy a pepperoni pizza

Facebook / Goodreads / Website / Twitter

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GIVEAWAY

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

RELEASE DAY BLITZ ❤ Blackest Red by P.T. Michelle




Title: Blackest Red
Series: In the Shadows #3
Author: P.T. Michelle
 Release Date: February 24, 2015


BLACKEST RED is the passionate and explosive conclusion to the IN THE SHADOWS series


Summary


No matter how hard I’ve tried to let go of Mister Black, the memories of us together torture me. They’re an unforgettable reminder of a life I can’t have for many reasons.

Burying myself in work mostly keeps thoughts of him to a screaming minimum, until he's thrust into my life under circumstances beyond my control. Despite my need for his protection, this time I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to survive with my heart intact. 

He is Black: a fierce protector and irresistible charmer.

I am Red: a trouble magnet and rainbow weaver.

Together we ignite. Explosive colors merging at the hottest melting point. 


NOTE: BLACKEST RED is meant for readers 18+ due to mature content. This is part 3 in the IN THE SHADOWS series and is approximately 369 print pages. The series must be read in the following order: MISTER BLACK (part 1), SCARLETT RED (part 2), and BLACKEST RED (part 3).








Links to Buy

$3.99 RELEASE WEEK SALE

AMAZON US / UK




Series Book Trailer 









Also Available

#1 Mister Black

ON SALE FOR 99c

AMAZON US / UK



#2 Scarlett Red

AMAZON US / UK







Author Bio


P.T. Michelle is the NEW YORK TIMES, USA TODAY and International Best Selling author of the Contemporary romance series IN THE SHADOWS, the YA/New Adult crossover series BRIGHTEST KIND OF DARKNESS, and the romance series: BAD IN BOOTS, KENDRIAN VAMPIRES and SCIONS (listed under Patrice Michelle). She keeps a spiral notepad with her at all times, even on her nightstand. When P.T. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading or taking pictures of landscapes, sunsets and anything beautiful or odd in nature.
 




Author Links

Giveaway

TEASER TUESDAY: Wreckless by Ginger Voight






#WildReckless #TeaserTuesday

Blurb:
Kensington Worth had a vision for her senior year. It involved her best friends, her posh private school in downtown Chicago and time alone with her piano until her audition was perfected, a guaranteed ticket into the best music programs in the world.

Instead, a nightmare took over.

It didn’t happen all at once, but her life unraveled quickly—a tiny thread that evil somehow kept pulling until everything precious was taken from her. She was suddenly living miles away from her old life, trapped in an existence she didn’t choose—one determined to destroy her from the inside, leaving only hate and anger behind. It didn’t help that her neighbor, the one whose eyes held danger, was enjoying every second of her fall.

Owen Harper was trouble, his heart wild and his past the kind that’s spoken about in whispers. And somehow, his path was always intertwined with Kensington’s, every interaction crushing her, ruining her hope for any future better than her now. Sometimes, though, what everyone warns is trouble, is exactly what the heart needs. Owen Harper was consumed with darkness, and it held onto his soul for years. When Kensington looked at him, she saw a boy who’d gotten good at taking others down when they threatened his carefully balanced life. But the more she looked, the more she saw other things too—good things…things to admire.

Things…to love. Things that made her want to be reckless.

And those things…they were the scariest of all.




iBooks:

Author bio:


Ginger Scott is an Amazon-bestselling author of six young and new adult romances, including Waiting on the Sidelines, Going Long, Blindness, How We Deal With Gravity, This Is Falling and You and Everything After.

A sucker for a good romance, Ginger’s other passion is sports, and she often blends the two in her stories. (She’s also a sucker for a hot quarterback, catcher, pitcher, point guard…the list goes on.) Ginger has been writing and editing for newspapers, magazines and blogs for more than 15 years. She has told the stories of Olympians, politicians, actors, scientists, cowboys, criminals and towns. For more on her and her work, visit her website at http://www.littlemisswrite.com.

When she's not writing, the odds are high that she's somewhere near a baseball diamond, either watching her son field pop flies like Bryce Harper or cheering on her favorite baseball team, the Arizona Diamondbacks. Ginger lives in Arizona and is married to her college sweetheart whom she met at ASU (fork 'em, Devils).

Social Media Links:


Twitter: @TheGingerScott






Monday, February 23, 2015

SNEAK PEAK & GIVEAWAY❤ Very Twisted Things (Briarcrest Academy) by Ilsa Madden-Mills

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Sneak Peek: Prologue + Chapter 1
Very Twisted Things
A Standalone Briarcrest Academy Novel #3
by New York Times best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills
Release Date: March 1, 2015
This is a standalone New Adult novel with graphic sex and language.
Introductory price of $2.99 on release day for 24 hours only!

  A sassy violinist who lives next door. An obsessed rock star who watches her through binoculars. And one night when she bares it all. Life will never be the same in Tinseltown.

Description:   Vital Rejects front guy Sebastian Tate never imagined his YouTube music video would go viral, sky-rocketing him to acting success in Hollywood. Okay, maybe he did. After all, he’s a cocky dude who knows he’s hot-as-hell, and it was only a matter of time before his stars aligned.   But life in Tinseltown is never what it seems.   After being cheated on, his only rule to falling in love is simple: Keep Calm and Don’t Do It. Spying on his mysterious new neighbor with binoculars seems innocent enough, but quickly escalates into an erotic game between two very unlikely people.   Twenty-year-old Violet St. Lyons is a world-renowned violinist who's lost her mojo on stage. She hides away in a Hollywood mansion, trying to find her way through her twisted past in order to make her future.   He’s the life of the party with girls chasing him down for his autograph. She’s the introvert with a potty mouth who doesn’t even know who he is.   When they meet, stars collide, sparks fly, and clothes come off. Yet, giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s.   Welcome to Briarcrest Academy—Hollywood style—where sometimes the best things in life are VERY TWISTED THINGS.


SebastianT2
  Prologue  

Violet

  “Fairy dust is not real. This I know.” —from the journal of Violet St. Lyons   Boom! I, Violet St. Lyons, who once believed herself the luckiest girl in the world, was born on the same day that the Violette–Sells comet was discovered. My parents, two avid stargazers, said it was a sign of how special I was and promptly named me Violet. They claimed my life had been blessed with fairy dust. At the very least, comet residue. I’d foolishly believed it for eighteen years, until the moment of my death. Which was now. Boom! Another explosion rocked the plane and metal ripped away as a section of the aircraft to my right vanished. Luggage flew through the air. People disappeared. The mom with the baby who’d sat in the aisle across from us—gone. The redheaded flight attendant who’d been collecting trash—gone. Disembodied screams echoed from the surrounding passengers as my own scream took up most of the space in my head. Air sucked at us viciously from the outside as a tornado of people banged around the space and one by one got pulled out into the swirling abyss. I watched, helplessly transfixed, as I sat between my parents, gripping each of their hands as the plane we’d boarded six hours earlier for Dublin spiraled toward the Atlantic Ocean. I was going to die. My mother was already dead, a twisted piece of shrapnel sticking grotesquely from her chest as her head lolled around her neck. Blood had already soaked her shirt, yet I refused to let go of her hand. She’d be okay. We were always okay. We were the St. Lyons family of Manhattan, an icon of old money wealth with deep political ties. Page six of the New York Times featured pictures of us on a monthly basis. We couldn’t die on a plane. Reality dawned as we plummeted. The yellow breathing apparatus dropped and dangled in my face, taunting me with its pointlessness. Fire and black smoke boiled in front of us where the cockpit had been, and my mind recognized that the pilots had to be dead. Just a few minutes ago, they’d come over the intercom and announced that the plane was making its descent into Dublin Airport exactly on schedule. Then the first explosion had gone off. Bits of debris flew around, narrowly missing me. My elderly father grabbed my hand and squeezed, his face drawn back in a horrible grimace. Fear and then horror flickered across his face as he saw Mother, but there was no time to comfort him. Paralyzed in my seat, we spun like a drunken top, and a part of my brain noticed the sun was rising, its pink tinge lending a soft glow, catching the reflection of clouds and making them silver-lined. The rocky coast of Ireland glittered in the distance. Mocking me. We’d been headed there to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. Just then my violin case flew past my head from the overhead compartment and crashed against the wall of the plane. Shards flew. I shuddered and wanted to vomit. God, help us. We were here because of me. Our deaths were my fault. I spared a glance at the diamond promise ring Geoff had given me before we’d left. Would the Mayor of New York’s son go on without me? The air was turbulent yet thin, and my chest tightened as dizziness pulled at me. I resisted. Had to stay awake. Had to be with my dad. I was younger, stronger, faster. My eyes went to the gaping hole in the plane. Had to think ahead. Plan. Water would fill up the plane on impact, ensuring we’d sink rapidly. My fear escalated as the ocean rushed at us, its surface choppy and ominous. I took in a giant breath and braced myself. We hit at an angle, the plane a torpedo as it sliced into the sea. Daddy disappeared, ejected by the impact, and I yanked on my seat belt, unclicking it to go after him. Heart thundering, I sent a final look at my mother. I wanted to take her with me, but she was gone. Water everywhere, bubbling and gurgling as it filled up the plane. Salt water stung my eyes. People floated by, some alive as they floundered for the opening. I kept my gaze off the dead ones. Focus. Get out. Only seconds left. I swam from my seat and fought my way out of the large hole in the plane, lungs exploding. Burning. I’d been under too long. Daddy! I caught a glimpse of his red shirt above me and kicked harder. Up, up, up. Must get up. My arms moved. My legs kicked. Excruciating pain. Ignore it. Almost there. So close that I could see the daylight breaking through the water. The hottest fire I’ve ever known lit in my chest. Scorching. Air. Just want to breathe. Just get to the top. Please. My body rebelled and I inhaled and swallowed water, the burn racing down my throat making it spasm as I tried to cough it out. I struggled but took in more and more, the cold liquid filling my lungs. Dark spots filled my eyes. This was drowning. Exhausted. Done. My body twitched. I grew disoriented. I let go of the fight. My hands floated in front of me. Oblivion. Darkness. No bright lights, no tunnel. No heaven, no mother, no father. No comets. No fairy dust.     Chapter 1  

Sebastian

Two years later   “She was music with skin.” —Sebastian Tate   I tapped my foot. What was taking her so long? From my backyard patio in the Hollywood Hills, I watched the odd girl next door with a pair of high-powered binoculars. She flicked on her porch lights, and a low whistle came out of me at the sexy red-as-sin robe she wore, its silky material flashing around her long legs as she moved around her patio. Her hair was down, too. This was new. Where were the usual yoga pants? The ponytail? She looked like she knew someone watched, but that was impossible since our outside lights were off. Even the light from the moon hit our house at such an angle that she shouldn’t be able to see us just by glancing over. She’d need a high-powered lens to know I was here. Usually she played facing her rose garden, but this time she walked to the right side of her patio, which faced us. Weird. But she didn’t play. She just stood there without moving. Staring toward our house. Uneasiness went over me. What was she doing? Could she see me? As if it were a fragile bird, she positioned the violin under her chin and began playing, arms bent and wrist poised, making the most exquisite sounds. And I don’t mean classical like Beethoven or Mozart; I mean body-thrashing, blood-thumping, hard-as-hell music that had me rooted to the ground, like she’d slapped iron chains on me. Dark and seductive notes rose up in the air, and I got jacked up, recognizing a Led Zeppelin song, only she’d ripped its guts out and twisted it into something electric. She pushed the bow hard, upping the tempo abruptly, her movements controlled yet wild. My pulse kicked up and my eyes lingered, taking in the slightly parted toned legs and the way her breasts bounced as she jerked her arms to manipulate the strings. Her body arched forward in a curve, seeming as if she might break into a million pieces before she finished the piece or climaxed first. Then, her robe slipped off her right shoulder, exposing part of her breast. Creamy and full, it quivered, vibrating as she moved her arms. Her rosy nipple teased me, slipping in and out of the folds of the material, erect from the cool mountain air and deliciously bitable. I pictured my mouth there, sucking, my fingers plucking, strumming her like my guitar until she begged me to— Stop, I told myself just as an appreciative groan came out. Whoever Violin Girl was, she didn’t deserve me lusting after her while she was pouring her heart out with music. I zoomed in as far as the binoculars would go, watching her surrender to the music as she bent and swayed from side to side with her eyes closed, black lashes like fans on her cheeks. Every molecule in my body focused on her, hanging on to each note she pulled from her instrument. She finished and kept her head bowed for the longest time, perhaps letting the emotion wash over her like it had me. Then, she bowed to the banana trees and gnomes in her garden, waving her hands in a flourish as she rose. The entire event was surreal, yet poignant as fucking poetry. I let out a deep breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding. Who the hell plays Stairway to Heaven with a violin? She did. Bam! She snapped her head up, her eyes lasering in on mine, making every hair on my body stand at attention. And then … Standing there in the moonlight, she untied her robe and spread apart the sides ever so slightly, her movements seeming almost hesitant, as if she’d had to work herself up. Unfamiliar jealousy hit me and I panned out and checked the rest of the patio, expecting to see a lover. Whoever it was, I wanted to rip him apart piece by piece. And didn’t that thought surprise me. My gaze searched her patio, the backyard, her upstairs balcony. Nothing. No one. She flicked her dark hair back and stroked the lapels of the robe, her fingers lingering over the lacy material. Suddenly the evening smacked of something more than just music. Her arms moved back and forth across the front, opening the robe halfway and then closing it as if she couldn’t make up her mind. My eyes went up, trying to read her face. Still as a statue, the only movement was her mouth as it trembled, her full upper lip resting against the pouty lower one. Tears ran down her face, but they seemed more of a defiant act, her jaw tightly set, her shoulders hunched inward as if she’d held it in too long and was giving in, but not without a fight. Violin Girl was trapped in a cage of darkness. It still didn’t stop me from holding my breath, silently begging her to bare herself to me. She’d already laid bare her music. Part of me needed the rest of her. She jerked the robe closed, making me groan in disappointment. And then she did something completely crazy. The lonely girl next door flipped me the bird.
  © Ilsa Madden-Mills  2015 Very Twisted Things

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 Author Bio   New York Times and USA Today best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.   She spends her days with two small kids, one neurotic cat, and one husband. She collects magnets and rarely cooks except to bake her own pretzels.   When she's not crafting a story, you can find her drinking too much Diet Coke, jamming out to Pink, or checking on her carefully maintained chocolate stash.   She loves to hear from readers and fellow authors.
 
  BUY HER BOOKS HERE: http://amzn.to/1qNbF3y
  Social Media   Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorilsamaddenmills   Twitter: @ilsamaddenmills Instagram: http://instagram.com/ilsamaddenmills/   Website: http://www.ilsamaddenmills.com/   Instagram: http://instagram.com/ilsamaddenmills/

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