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Friday, 30 September 2016

Cover Reveal: Kill Me by LP Lovell







 

Title: Kill Me
Series: Kiss of Death #1
Author: LP Lovell
Genre: Dark Romance
Cover Design & Photographer: Cassy Roop, Pink Ink
Model: Casey Creswell
Release Date: October 24, 2016



Blurb

Una

To many, I am little more than a myth. The Kiss of Death, a hired killer, revered by the some of the greatest criminal organisations in the world. Trained by the bratva themselves, without conscience, without mercy, the perfect soldier. I’ll kill anyone… for a price. Death doesn’t discriminate, she sells to the highest bidder, but even I have a weakness.

Luca

I want one thing—power. But power is merely a game of strategy. The pieces are on the chess board. Death is my queen, and also my pawn. She’ll paint this city red in exchange for the one thing she wants. Now all I have to do is watch it all play out. She’s nothing more than a weapon, and yet, I find myself wanting to dance with death, to possess her. And I always get what I want.

A game of power. A risk that could cost her everything. An obsession that would see the world burn at their feet. A bloodied king. A broken queen. Kill me or kiss me?


 

Pre-order Links

AMAZON US / UK

 




Author Bio

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.

Lauren is a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.

LP loves to hear from readers so please get in touch.



Author Links

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Book Blitz: Excerpt + #Giveaway: Pretty Wicked by Kelly Charron


Pretty Wicked
Kelly Charron
Publication date: September 30th 2016
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult
The daughter of a local police detective, fifteen-year-old Ryann has spent most of her life studying how to pull off the most gruesome murders her small Colorado town has ever seen.
But killing is only part of it. Ryann enjoys being the reason the cops are frenzied. The one who makes the neighbors lock their doors and windows on a hot summer’s day. The one everyone fears but no one suspects.
Carving out her own murderous legacy proves harder than she predicted. Mistakes start adding up. And with the police getting closer, and her own father becoming suspicious, Ryann has to prove once and for all that she’s smarter than anyone else—or she’ll pay the ultimate price.
Written in a mature YA voice. Some graphic content.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
READ CHAPTER 1
 
Some people are called to certain things in their life. That’s what hunting is for me. An urge. A desire. The closest thing I have to a calling.
My name is Ryann Wilkanson. I’m fifteen years old.
And I’m a killer.
It was hard to pick my first. Call me sentimental, but it had to be just right.
I knew what I wanted. What I needed. Someone worth the risk, the challenge. Somebody who deserved it. Now, I’m not talking about the horrible, abusive assholes you see on TV. I wanted someone who I thought deserved it…
And to be honest, that could’ve been just about anybody.
Some people might think it’s odd to contemplate killing someone, but it was the most natural thing in the world to me. I didn’t dare talk about it—I somehow knew that much—but my thoughts raced with vivid, red-tinted images.
While my fantasies were fun, I had to wait. I still lacked the skill and organization to actually go through with it.
And, as I matured, I realized part of me was still hesitant. A piece of the puzzle was missing. It was as though I was waiting for permission. Something to give me the final push into action.
Funnily enough, I got that that clarity six years ago, when I was nine. My dad thought he was simply giving me a ride to school, but he initiated the defining moment of my life.
I remember it like it was yesterday. He’d just come off nights and wasn’t in the best of moods when my mom asked him to drive me and Bri. I’d raced to the car first, winning shotgun, leaving Brianna to storm behind me. She was a sore loser, and it only made my grin bigger.
We were just a few blocks from the house when Dad started with one of his commentaries on all that was wrong with society.
“Jesus. People like that make me sick.”
We had stopped at a red light, and I spotted a guy standing on the corner with a sign that read Please Help.
At first I felt kind of bad for him, and I didn’t understand why Dad was upset. “At least he’s not dealing drugs,” I suggested.
“Brilliant observation. Maybe we could put that on a T-shirt for him,” Bri said. My father laughed and my stomach dropped. She never wasted an opportunity to make me look stupid.
Dad grunted. “Don’t be naïve, Ry. He’s probably scraping enough together to get his fix. People like that are after one thing—and it’s not a job.” He rolled his eyes, disgusted. Not a minute later, while we were still waiting at the light, a kid in a fancy sports car passed us. “See, look at that. Punk probably had it handed to him from Mommy and Daddy. He’s what—seventeen? Probably hasn’t worked a day in his whole goddamn life. Entitled brat. This is the problem with the world. You got two lazy bums on opposite ends of the spectrum, and neither are worth their salt.”
My father didn’t have a whole lot of empathy for anybody, and he certainly didn’t entertain excuses. I had to be the best if I wanted him to love me. “People need to either lead, follow—”
“Or get out of the way,” I finished. He patted me on the head. I knew this rant well and kind of understood my father’s reasoning. The homeless guy couldn’t even be bothered to walk up and down the rows of stopped cars to beg. He just stood there with an empty cup. He really was a waste.
I fought the urge to point out to my dad that I was nothing like those people—and never would be—but I knew he wouldn’t care. He loved me, but nothing I did seemed to impress him, especially since my older sister Brianna, the golden child, had perfected every- thing before I even had a chance to try.
I had to do something really big to make an impression.
I had to be a leader.
In the car, all those years ago, I realized that my desires could turn into something much more. Those entitled, useless people my dad despised were taking our hard-earned money, space, and air. And I was someone with deadly urges who wasn’t afraid to do something about it. Not everyone could say that.
But unfortunately, I would have to wait. I was much too young to execute my plans in the way I wanted.
My thoughts, however, were uninhibited, and I became enamored with the power and control that selecting the right kill could bring. The foreplay was intoxicating. I daydreamed about the countless ways I could do it. About all the places I could sneak up and strike. About the legacy I would leave behind.
For years I researched and studied serial killers— or as I liked to call them, The Greats. Most of The Greats hadn’t started until well into their adulthood. Call me an overachiever, but I wanted more kills in less time. I had all the qualities required: above-average intelligence, inside information (Dad was a cop), and a sweet cherub face.
But I also had something more. Tenacity. I knew what I wanted, and come hell or high water, I was going to get it. By fifteen, the thirst inside me could finally be quenched.
Cue my first planned victim—a snotty little brat who lived only a few streets away from me. Olivia McMann. Ugh. She was exhausting. Spoiled. Whiny. Brianna used to babysit her. I’d be dragged along because my parents usually worked overtime at their respective jobs. I was twelve and old enough to stay home alone, but they insisted. Like I had nothing better to do.
Brianna would be online with her friends or texting her boyfriend, and she’d stick Livy with me. Olivia wouldn’t leave me alone. One night she pestered me for hours on end until I lost it on her. Then she got the quivering lip and teary eyes and went crying to Bri.
Bri’s voice ripped across the room. “Ryann, what did you do now?”
“Nothing! Why do you always assume it was me? Maybe Livy is being a little crybaby over absolutely nothing,” I said, arms crossed tightly across my chest.
The brat came running up behind me. “You’re mean, Ryann. I hate you!”
I swept my hair into a ponytail and turned my back to her.
Death glare in full force, Brianna dug into me. “Why are you being such a pest? Leave Olivia alone already. Go find something to do, and don’t think for one second I’m giving you any of the money.”
She proceeded to get Olivia some licorice. A reward for her evilness. Maybe they were in on it together and shared private laughs while discussing different ways to torture me.
Brianna was seventeen at the time, and she hated me. No matter how hard I tried, she always dismissed me like I was an annoying pain in her ass.
“Not everything is my fault, you know,” I said, determined to stand my ground.
“Well, she’s not the one in my face right now. Go play with her for an hour until her bedtime, and maybe I won’t tell Mom.” Smiling smugly, Bri tilted her head. I wanted to punch her. As soon as we were out of her sight, Olivia stuck her tongue out at me and danced around, joyous in her victory.
“See, I told you I’d get you in trouble. I always get my way. You have to do what I say.” She laughed.
I promised myself I’d never forget.
Back then, I’d imagined choking her or holding one of her mom’s embroidered pillows over her face until her squirming stopped. I knew her parents were well-off. Only the best for their princess. Olivia was the type of kid who tantrumed, tattled, and fake-cried to get what she wanted, no matter the cost to anyone who got in her way.
Olivia was going to turn into the same kind of spoiled, manipulative bitch I’d seen time and again at school.
I knew how to deal with someone like her. After all, I had killed. Once.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR 
Kelly Charron is the author of YA and adult horror, psychological thrillers and urban fantasy novels. All with gritty, murderous inclinations and some moderate amounts of humor. She spends far too much time consuming true crime television (and chocolate) while trying to decide if yes, it was the husband, with the wrench, in the library. She lives with her husband and cat, Moo Moo, in Vancouver, British Columbia.  



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Thursday, 29 September 2016

Release Blitz: The Sacred Truth by JL Long

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The Sacred Truth
By JL Long
 
Release Date: September 29th
 
NOW LIVE
Cover Designer: JL Long
Model: Derek Warren




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The only failures in life are the mistakes you don’t learn from.
It was only supposed to be casual. Then I fell for her. Falling head first in love, only to have fear rip it out from underneath me. I severed us with my destructive words. Correcting all the mistakes I’ve made is what I have to do, I just don’t know how.

She does. She always knows what to do.

However, fate has a way of deciding things like this for us, doesn’t it?
This is part of the Tactical Men Series. It can be read as a standalone though we meet Nolan and Jenna in A Dance Worth Dancing.

**Warning- Intended for readers 18+. This book contains situations not suitable for all readers.


EXCERPT

“Where the hell did you go?” I grumble as the sound moves closer. I’m sprawled out on my bed with one arm slung over my eyes and the other hand holding firmly to the bottle of Jack.
“Don’t you worry about that, baby,” she purrs, her voice almost right on top of me.
“My house. Not sure I like women I don’t know wandering around when they think I’m sleeping.”
She sighs as her body hits the bed, jostling it. “You know me.”
“I know your pussy, that’s about it.” That would be the truth. I don’t know this woman. I can’t even recall her name. The only thing I know is she was pretty goddamn willing to come home with me from the bar—a place where I have spent much of my time recently.
“Wow. You’re so charming,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her tone.
“Never claimed to be.” Removing my arm from over my eyes, I look at her. “Time for you to go. I’ve gotta be at work in a few hours.” After my parting words, I close my eyes again.
She slides back off the bed and rummages around for her clothes, the rustling of fabric and whatever the fuck else she’s picking up and throwing around testing my patience. “You know, if I would have known you were going to treat me like a whore, I would have never come back here with you.”
I chuckle under my breath, not giving one shit how she feels right now. She was just a means to an end. She was waiting for someone to pick her up, so she can’t blame me for not treating her like a queen and slipping a ring on her finger. Her pussy isn’t that good.
“No, babe, if I treated you like a whore, I would have left money on the nightstand. I also wouldn’t have called you a cab when you were snooping around for fuck knows what.”
The whoosh of her pants being pulled on comes next. Thank fuck. “Not that you care, but my name’s Layna, not Jenna.”
Doesn’t surprise me that I called her Jenna. I was picturing Jenna while I was fucking her. Yeah, that probably gets me another asshole point. Pretty sure I’m close to hitting the ceiling with those.
Saying nothing, I flip onto my stomach and wait to hear her leave. When the click of the door sounds, I let out my frustrated growl. I’m tired of living like this. This kinda life takes a toll on a man. I do everything in my power to get Jenna out of my system and nothing fucking works.
That woman will be the death of me.
Literally.


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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

JL grew up in a small town in Illinois. Not to be mistaken for Chicago. She currently resides in Southern Kentucky with her husband, three children and their fur-baby, Buster Malone. She has lived an adventurous life…doing just that, living. Dream it. Do it. Live it. JL is a hopeless romantic, who loves seeing love unwind before her eyes. When she can’t see that for herself with other people in real life, she writes it or reads it. Writing has been a part of her life since she was a little girl, along with being an avid reader. She will continue to write until the pen will not allow it anymore.
 
 
 
 

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Cover Reveal: Excerpt + #Giveaway: The Fighter and the Baroness by Sunniva Dee


The Fighter and the Baroness
Sunniva Dee
Publication date: November 29th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance
Cover designed by CT Cover Creations
Victor Arquette knows the meaning of sacrifice. Destined to legendary status in mixed martial arts, his life is founded on it. Dedication equals sacrifice, and sacrifice means around-the-clock training, no partying, no junk food, no alcohol—and no women.
Helena von Isenlohe is the heiress to Kyria Castle. Due to her father’s lack of financial prowess, the restoration of the ancient German estate rests on Helena’s shoulders. A failed attempt leaves a wealthy man alone at the altar—and the fleeing bride on a plane to the United States.
A chance meeting, and Victor and Helena’s chemistry is undeniable. Except, her presence clutters his focus. Victor shouldn’t crave their nights, shouldn’t be concerned where she is or with whom. And meanwhile in Germany, Kyria Castle deteriorates at a suspicious speed, indebting Helena further to the man she left behind.
Victor and Helena believe in duty. They embrace sacrifice. But when love strikes, it strikes hard, and sometimes you have to choose where your heart is truly at home.
 
 
 
EXCERPT
 
Helena enters the room like she expects someone to jump out from dark corner. Neck stretched, she takes in a high quality yet typical hotel room with a king-sized bed and two nightstands. The TV is big and flat, resting on top of a dresser, and then there’s a mirror over a small office desk with a phone and some restaurant flyers on it.
“It’s nice,” she says. “I like that it doesn’t smell like smoke.”
“That would be terrible. Is that what you’re used to? Smoking rooms?”
“We have a cigar room,” she replies, confused, until she breaks in an apologetic laugh. “Oh, as in smoking versus nonsmoking hotel room. I get it.”
“You have a cigar room? Would that be right next to the swan pond?” I tease. It’s cute to see embarrassment flush her cheeks. “Hey,” I continue, mock-petting her cheek, “don’t feel self-conscious about living in a castle. Even though it’s, let’s just say, a hair’s breadth over the top for us commoners.”
“Don’t I know it,” she says. “So which side of the bed is mine?”
I consider, rubbing the light scruff that’s grown on my chin since yesterday. “Well, since you just touched the left corner, it now has cooties. You’ll have to sleep on the cooty-side.”
This girl, she’s been so immediate in her responses. I guess I expected a laugh or some expressed annoyance at my silly comment. Instead, she sinks down against the pillows on her side of the bed and breathes, “Okay,” with the smallest smile raising the corners of her lips.
She uses the arc of one foot to slide her shoe off before she skips off the other. I watch as she wiggles her toes graciously, green nail polish gleaming in the dim shine from the bedside lamp.
Helena is tired. I guess it’s been a long day, the flight being just a small part of her exhaustion. I’m drawn to her eyes, not for the first time. The color of them is almost watery. No, they are watery.
“Who gave you that color?” I blurt out.
“What?”
“Your eyes. It’s like they’re made of water.”
I’m not the impulsive kind, and yet I’ve already committed strange acts around this girl. Where I come from, women expect smart, premeditated interactions, never initiated by questions like the one I just shot at Helena. This they’d ignore. They’d change the subject into something not insane, or they’d titter and squirm, not knowing how to respond.
She lets her eyes float from her feet to my eyes before they still. “My father. I’ve got his eyes.” She laughs softly, hands around the remote for the TV. “Grandma used to say our eyes were the color of the swan pond because we were both born in rooms with windows overlooking it.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR 
Between studies, teaching, and advising, Sunniva has spent her entire adult life in a college environment. Most of her novels are new adult romance geared toward smart, passionate readers with a love for eclectic language and engaging their brain as well as their heart while reading.
Born in the Land of the Midnight Sun, the author spent her early twenties making the world her playground. Southern Europe: Spain, Italy, Greece--Argentina: Buenos Aires, in particular. The United States finally kept her interest, and after half a decade in Los Angeles, she now lounges in the beautiful city of Savannah.
Sometimes, Sunniva writes with a paranormal twist (Shattering Halos, Stargazer, and Cat Love). At other times, it's contemporary (Pandora Wild Child, Leon's Way, Adrenaline Crush, Walking Heartbreak, and Dodging Trains, coming in late March 2016).
This author is the happiest when her characters let their emotions run off with them, shaping her stories in ways she never foresaw. She loves bad-boys and good-boys run amok, and like in real life, her goal is to keep the reader on her toes until the end of each story. 

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Blog Tour: Excerpt + #Giveaway: Love Me Crazy by Camden Leigh

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Today we have the blog tour for Love Me Crazy by Camden Leigh. We are so excited to share this fantastic new contemporary romance with you!
 
Be sure to check it out and grab your copy today!
 
 
 
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“We’re broken in the most screwed-up perfect way. It was inevitable we’d end up together.”  
Cassidy Beck is focused on one thing, and one thing only: planning the Southern wedding of the century in Lucas Hill, South Carolina. Fresh from a tragic breakup, Cassidy’s not in the mood for any distractions. But when antebellum hottie Quinn Covington arrives in all his sexy, tattooed glory, he might prove to be the biggest distraction of them all.   MIA ever since his father’s death, Quinn doesn’t plan to stay any longer than it takes to start his dad’s vintage truck. But the sight of Cassidy trying to fend off his family’s pet turkey sends him for a loop. Red-haired and fierce, she’s just as broken as he is. But even though Cassidy’s past makes her the only one able to understand Quinn’s own scars, they also make her wary. After all, how can she trust him with her heart when everyone else she’s ever given it to has thrown it away?   Sexy, heart-wrenching, and full of Southern charm, this new contemporary romance from Camden Leigh shows just what happens when two people who are perfectly broken end up piecing each other back together.
 
Get your copy today! Publisher | Amazon/Kindle | iBook | Nook | Kobo | Google Play
 
 
EXCERPT
 
“I think I should go to bed.” She ducks under my arm from where I pinned her against the counter. The glance she casts over her shoulder leaks her uncertainty into the air.
Fuck if I’m going down that easily.
I push open her door, grab her around the waist and pull her into me, taking her lips without caution. Her hands ball into fists and press against my shoulders. She turns away and I give her a second to think this through, to really consider what she and I could have, right now, right here. If she wanted. And I need her to want me.
“You can walk away,” I whisper, “but I can’t walk away without a fight.”
Her hands soften as her glazed olive-green eyes consider my offer. I let her go and hold my hands up, waiting for her choice. Will she chose me, or herself?
“Don’t stop fighting,” she whispers. “I want you to win.”
I lock the door and move swiftly to her side, afraid I’m imagining this. Afraid I’ve drunk too much—highly improbable—and am experiencing the most elaborate hallucination ever.
She takes my hands and walks me around the edge of her bed. Her hands slip over my chest, lower to my belt and undo me in a matter of seconds, both physically and mentally. I tug at her shirt hem and shimmy it up, exposing her gorgeous map of freckles. I lean down and kiss her neck, her shoulder, and the dip where her collar bones meet.
Her hands thread through my hair and direct me up. Her kiss settles on my lips. Her tongue traces their seam. I back her into the bed, no longer wanting to take it slow. She pulls her shirt over her head and reaches for the hook on her bra, but I hook her elbow with my finger, wanting to enjoy the sight a bit longer—loose red strands falling from her messy bun, curling just above her navy lace bra. I trace the outline of her nipples and they harden against the sheer material.
She sits on the edge of the mattress. I drop to my knees and lean over her legs, inhaling her and tracing a kiss across her breasts. She arches back and collapses on the bed, but not before grabbing a handful of my shirt and inviting me to stretch out with her.
She pulls my shirt over my head and traces the trail of tattoos across my chest before pulling me closer. I roll on top of her and settle a kiss on her lips. Warm fucking lips. Hot fucking body. Sexiest damn woman I’ve ever met.
“This is our first date, right?” she asks.
“No way.” I kiss her and stretch her arms overhead so I can trace the curves her body makes. “You don’t score on the first date.”
‘Thought we could change that.”
 
 
 
 
 
author-photo Camden Leigh is a sucker for first kisses, first hook-ups and anything that adds the unforgettable first sparks of love–humor, seduction, hot-n-sexy bods, angsty determination...what have you! Her stories expose the real dirt, grime and grit that befalls a seemingly perfect relationship, the heartache as a result, and the growth, perseverance and strength it takes to make flaws work for her characters. She wants her characters to experience love that wraps arounds their hearts, turns them into sizzling flames and results in a grand finale of fireworks.   When Camden isn’t writing, she’s either crafting, flicking through images of gorgeous paper, saturated palettes or...um, lip-lickin' washboard abs. When feeling guilty, she attempts to keep up with her energetic kiddos by beach combing, kayaking, golfing (can it really be called golfing if a seven-year-old beats you?) or being that crazy person at a concert. Her addictions: chocolate covered raspberries, real southern sweet tea (not the fake stuff with the sugar crystals hanging out in the bottom of the cup), her pups and pretty paper she’ll never use.
 
 
 
 
Connect with Camden:
 
 
 
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Blog Tour Schedule:
September 28th
AC Book Blog Excerpt
September 29th
September 30th
SBB Reviews Review
October 1st
October 2nd
Literary Dust Excerpt
October 3rd
V's Reads Review
Book Junkiez Excerpt
October 4th
Book Fancy Review
October 5th
October 6th
Lucky 13 Review
October 7th
KatyaRath Review
October 8th
The Book Tree Excerpt
October 9th
October 10th
October 11th
Books 2 Blog Review
 



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Release Day: Tempting Eden by Celia Aaron


 




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A modern re-telling of Jane Eyre that will leave you breathless...


Jack England
Eden Rochester is a force. A whirlwind of intensity and thinly-veiled passion. Over the past few years, I’ve worked hard to avoid my passions, to lock them up so they can’t harm me—or anyone else—again. But Eden Rochester ignites every emotion I have. Every glance from her sharp eyes and each teasing word from her indulgent lips adds more fuel to the fire. Resisting her? Impossible. From the moment I held her in my arms, I had to have her. But tempting her into opening up could cost me my job and much, much more.



Eden Rochester
When Jack England crosses my path and knocks me off my high horse, something begins to shift. Imperceptible at first, the change grows each time he looks into my eyes or brushes against my skin. He’s my assistant, but everything about him calls to me, tempts me. And once I give in, he shows me who he really is—dominant, passionate, and with a dark past. After long days of work and several hot nights, I realize the two of us are bound together. But my secrets won’t stay buried, and they cut like a knife.



Stand-alone.   


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She took a small step toward me, invading my space. I looked down into her green eyes, giving her stare right back to her until she blinked. Something more than air existed in the space between us. I wanted to grab her waist, to link myself to her somehow. I wanted to claim her, to show her which one of us was truly in charge.

I maintained my stance.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” she asked.

“Not even a little bit.”

She had no idea. The things I could do to her. The things I’d already done to her in my mind while I lay awake in the apartment behind Ms. Temple’s house every night. It wasn’t some ridiculous fantasy where the secretary bangs the boss. It was her. Something about her that I couldn’t quite define, but that I wanted, all the same.

“Does the way I do business bother you? The way I speak to you?”

I shook my head. “This is a job. You pay me to assist you. I’ll do that in any way I can.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You think this conversation is between a boss and her subordinate?”

I wasn’t sure what she meant. My face must have reflected my confusion.

She dropped her arms before reaching up and smoothing a few stray strands from her face. “I realize I pay you, that you work for me. But ever since that first day, when you won the business from Poole, I haven’t seen you as a subordinate. Can I teach you things? Yes. Do I have more experience? Yes. But you have certain intangibles, things I haven’t seen in any of the others in your position. Don’t sell yourself short.”


She couldn’t have surprised me more if she’d backhanded me and spit in my face. Actually, that would have been easier for me to process. This way of hers, the ability to put me at ease while simultaneously stunning me, made me wonder if she was gaming me somehow. But her frank gaze said differently. The truth was there in her eyes.

She reached past me and hit the button to open the doors. “Let’s get some lunch.”   





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Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.


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