Challenged By Ryan Michele ♥ Chapter Reveal

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

Lust, love, and second chances.

 

Growing up in the fast-paced and rough life of a motorcycle club wasn’t easy. Cleaning up the mess his father had made of Vipers Creed meant sacrifice. Cade ‘Spook’ Baker had given up everything to bring the club life back to what it was supposed to be: a family.

 

The choices he made were not what he wanted, but they were necessary for the club as a whole.

Second chances rarely came to Spook, so when his Trixie walked boldly into his clubhouse, the decision was made. Trixie would once again be his, this time for good.

 

Trix Lamasters was raised by a master—a master con. All grown up, she made her life solid by making it about her club, Sirens. But one bad business decision brought her to her knees, forcing her to call on the one person she had sworn she would never trust again.

 

Pasts have a way of not staying there. Things that were buried deep have a way of finding themselves in the light of a new day. Could something that had once crashed and burned for Spook and Trixie find a way out of the wreckage? With the odds against them, can they find a way to overcome the challenges, or will it all blow up in their faces?

 

**Due to content, mature audiences only.**

 

Ardent Prose Excerpt

 

Challenged (Vipers Creed MC#1) ©Ryan Michele 2016

Prologue

My head filled with a cloudy, dense fog that I couldn’t shake. Even with my eyes open, a filmy haze covered them, making everything blurry. Voices were muffled, as if I were under water, sinking. I thought I recognized one, but couldn’t tell for sure.

Too hard to think.

I attempted to pull my arms up, but they were immediately halted by something. The hard, cold, heavy attachments clinked like metal. Even straining to move them, my muscles were so weak, so lethargic I couldn’t. I tried my legs, and the same thing happened.

A hard surface pressed against my back as the cool air of the room cascaded over my skin, my nipples, my stomach… Oh God, was I naked?

I opened my mouth, wanting to scream as deep panic set in. Unfortunately, nothing came out except air. Even that took more effort than I had in me.

Placing the pieces of the puzzle together, I couldn’t make heads or tails out of anything.

Heat at my side had me turning in that direction, only to see a fuzzy, black figure. I squinted then blinked, trying to get the focus to come back, but nothing. Not a damn thing.

“Hello, darlin’. Welcome to hell.”

 

Chapter One

Trix

A lump gathered in my throat settling like a rock, hard and brutal, sucking the wind out of me. My hand slightly twitched as I dialed the number I never in a million years thought I would call. I switched the phone to my other hand in an effort to shake out the trembling, because nervousness wasn’t an option. Trix Lamasters would not turn into some twit who couldn’t think straight over one phone call. Being a shrewd businesswoman, I’d learned from the best not to let shit get to me, how to compartmentalize things and deal.

I swallowed hard, moving the lump from my throat to settle into my gut like a boulder. As I focused, my breathing evened out. The thick steel in my spine could handle anything life threw at me, including this call. Including the man who would be on the other end of the line.

The green button stared back at me, my finger hovering over it. Then I pressed it and pulled the phone to my ear just as it started ringing.

One ring … two … three …

“What?” was barked through the phone line with a male’s voice tainted by harsh impatience.

“Can I talk to Cade? Shit.” I stopped myself. He wasn’t Cade anymore. I needed to remember that a lot had changed. “I mean, Spook. Is Spook around?”

Silence.

“Hello?” I pulled the phone away from my ear, looking at the bright screen, making sure the call hadn’t dropped. Nope, the little numbers in the corner were still counting away. I pressed it back to my ear, waiting a few beats.

“Who wants to fucking know?” His tone turned gruffer, almost as if he were a protective watch dog of Cade’s, and nothing or no one got past him.

Watch dog or not, I wasn’t about to get eaten.

“This is Trix Lamasters. I need to speak to him.”

More silence, not even a breath or noise in the background.

“Hello?”

His voice came over the line right as I intended to speak again. “Stop fucking saying hello. I’m here.”

Hell, maybe someone pissed in his Wheaties this morning, his attitude having nothing to do with me. Or maybe it was just him.

I slapped my hand to my forehead as the word dumbass rang in my mind.

“Sorry, I thought the call dropped.” Now I apologized to the rude man? Get a grip, Trix.

“What do you need with Spook?” The guard dog didn’t give me an inch. Nevertheless, he didn’t need to know my business.

I needed a diversion.

“Can you just get a message to him to call me?”

“Babe, either tell me what you need, or nothing fuckin’ gets to him.” His tone turned flat and resolute.

“Fuck,” I muttered then heard him chuckle. The damn man needed a bone before he played. Asshole. “An employee of mine has been seen at your clubhouse. I need to talk to her.”

“Call her,” he quipped.

“She doesn’t have a phone,” I retorted, feeling the fire burn in my veins.

“Not my problem,” the man sneered. From his attitude, I knew he would have no problem hanging up on me right now, never telling Cade I needed to talk to him. Good thing I dealt with assholes on a regular basis.

“Look, the bitch owes me money.” Anger raced through my body. I let it be heard through each clipped word.

He let out a deep laugh that was almost intriguing if he weren’t a jerk. “You may as well kiss that cash good-bye.”

My pride had other ideas.

“Fuck no. I want what’s owed to me.” I sighed, needing a different tactic. “Look, can you just give Spook my name?” He would either call or he wouldn’t, but maybe that would get the dog to want to nose around. Maybe curiosity would get him to spread my name at least.

“This is gonna be fun. Hang on.” The man must have covered the mouthpiece with his hand, because everything he said was muffled except for him calling Spook’s name. That, I could hear clearly. My adrenaline spiked at the thought of Cade coming on the line.

“Yeah?” a voice I recognized from my dreams said into the phone. The deep, raspy tenor had grown over time and slithered down my spine all the way to my knees, giving them a slight tremble. It took only one word to make my stomach flip.

Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea, but I wasn’t that girl anymore. He would not have power over me. I wouldn’t allow it.

I paced my small living room, needing the movement to get my knees back in line.

“Cade? It’s Trix Lamasters.”

“First, the name’s Spook. Second, who?”

That one kind of stung. All right, more than stung. It tore another hole in my already battered heart was more like it. The asshole didn’t even remember me, but what did I expect, being one in a sea of many? There was absolutely no reason I would have stood out to him.

“We went to school together,” I tried.

Silence.

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, hoping divine intervention would give me the gift of patience or a gun. Neither came.

“Whatever. I get you don’t remember me, but you have one of my employees there. I need to talk to her. She owes me money, and I need it back.”

“Trixie Lamasters.” I could hear the devilish grin as his words snaked over the phone. Not going to lie, my pussy quivered.

No one called me Trixie anymore, because once upon a time, he did and I had loved it. After he abruptly left my life, taking the one thing I could never get back, I refused to let anyone call me by that name. Never again would I allow the hollow feeling that name represented to seep through me. Now, hearing him after fifteen years, the vault of memories opened wide, something I did not want to happen. I didn’t want to feel, yet each recollection of the past bombarded my mind.

“Long time.”

I paused mid-step as a flash of younger Cade hit me. Shaking my head clear, I continued to pace through my living room.

“Yeah, very long. Anyway, you have a woman there by the name of Nanette King. Can you hand her over to me?”

I wouldn’t let the smoothness of his voice draw me in like it had all those years ago, reducing me to a pile of teenaged mush. Strictly business, I told myself, because business I could handle.

“How do you know she’s here?”

“I had her followed, and it led to you.”

I guessed he didn’t like the fact that I had found her that way, judging from the muttered curses that followed. Each word made me smile. I had a payroll of people who worked for me now, and some little twit-fart would not run off with my money. That wasn’t how I operated my business.

Nanette had fallen off radar. Cade’s club happened to be the last place she was seen; therefore, I had to call him. I may as well have strapped zip-ties around my wrists, locking them in place.

“First, if she’s at the club, there’s a reason. Second, bitches here don’t go by their real names, so I don’t know if she’s around, because I don’t know a Nanette. Third, you come to the clubhouse, and we’ll talk.”

Business was business, but my heart spiked at the thought of seeing him again.

Cade’s club, Vipers Creed MC, had been in Dyersburg for years. Even before I came into this world, their presence had been well known. This town had tales, but these days, the Vipers were mostly known for Creed’s Automotive where they made custom bikes and cars in their own little world located on the outskirts of town.

I’d hoped to avoid a meeting since I couldn’t see any point to it. I wasn’t in the mood for a high school reunion. The past needed to stay there, locked up tight.

“I’ll describe her to you. Tell me if she’s there, and I’ll send someone over to get her,” I declared, trying to veer him from this path.

Negotiations were something I excelled at. There had to be an arrangement that suited us both, one we could manage over the phone. It would be the best course of action. The less contact I had with him, the better. I could have Ike, one of the bouncers at Sirens, pick her up. Win-win all around.

He chuckled, and my body went on alert because of the slyness in it.

“Babe, you don’t get how this works. You want something from me that I have, bring your ass here, and we’ll discuss it. Tomorrow night, seven.” Silence.

This time when I looked at the screen, the number fifty-seven blinked rapidly. He’d hung up on me.

“That arrogant piece of shit!” I growled, tossing my phone to the couch where it bounced on the cushion.

I should have known he’d still be a dick. Some things never changed. Guess I was going to meet up with Cade after all.

I completely ignored the slight tremor that thought caused.

***

During the entire drive, I berated myself for giving the money to Nanette in the first place. One stupid decision started this path, one I could have avoided if I’d stuck to my rules.

Nanette’s eyes were anxiously cast to the floor of my office as she rung her hands together absently.

When she didn’t talk, I prompted, “Speak.” It sounded like a command I would give a dog, but at times like these, when people wouldn’t get on with their shit, it was deserved. I had shit to do, and she obviously needed something.

“I need to borrow five thousand dollars,” she said in a surge.

I leaned back in the leather chair behind my desk, my brow raised as her eyes looked everywhere but at mine. Nervous? No, she was damn near petrified.

I waited out the quiet for her eyes to meet mine, the fear coming across loud and clear.

When they did, I asked, “For what?”

I wanted to hear her out, because if she had problems, I needed to know whether those problems would blow back onto Sirens. It was always about the business.

“The bank’s gonna foreclose on my house if I don’t come up with the money by Friday.” Her eyes filled with moisture.

While I wasn’t a cruel and heartless bitch, this wasn’t my problem. She was a grown adult and needed to handle her own problems, including money to pay her bills.

“No,” I answered firmly. “You can go now.”

Nanette’s face turned to dismay as my answer rolled around in that head of hers. Her skin paled, her nose twitched, and she swallowed hard, as if not to puke. She began to say words; only, they came out as sounds of mumbled breath as she lost her composure.

I held up my hand in an effort to stop her choking rambles. “Stop trying to talk. Listen. I’m not a bank; I’m not an ATM machine; I do not run cash advances. You need money, you work for it. That’s how the world goes round.”

“Please,” she started in a rush. “I’m taking care of my dad. He’s sick, and if I lose the house, I’ll have nowhere to make sure he’s okay.”

“Not my problem.” This was one of the reasons I closed myself off from the people around me, only letting a small few into my tight-knit circle. I had heard so many sob stories over the past five years running Sirens that not much penetrated the thick wall around me.

“Trix, I’ll pay you back every penny with interest. Please. You’re my last hope. My dad has lung cancer, and it’s progressing quickly. All my money goes to his treatments, and because of that, I got behind on the mortgage. I just need an advance on my checks. I’ll work extra shifts, and come in whenever you want.” Her words strung together like a melody, and fuck me, I felt her panic.

She continued, “He has no insurance, so I’m paying for everything out-of-pocket. It’s bleeding me dry. I don’t know what else to do.” Tears rolled down her face. Judging from her body language, which I had learned from the best how to hone in on, the bitch was telling the truth.

Fucking hell. I didn’t want to feel it. I tried to push it back. The businesswoman inside of me screamed, ‘No fucking way!’ while the woman inside of me was proud of how Nanette took care of her father. Was I really going to do this? Shit.

“Twenty-five percent interest to be paid in full six months from now.”

Nanette’s eyes lit up in shock. “Really?”

“That’s six thousand two hundred fifty dollars in my hand six months from this date. A fucking day late, I’ll make your life a living hell.” I would, too, finding every way possible.

“Okay,” she said, swiping away the remnants of her tears, a flash of relief snaking into her eyes.

I folded my hands, placing them in front of me. “I’m not fucking around, Nanette. These are the terms.” I pulled out the gun from the holster attached under my desk, setting it on the hard wood. Her eyes widened. “Every last penny in six months,” I reminded her. “You sure you wanna do that?” It was the only out she would get if she agreed.

She nodded her head then spoke, “I understand. Six months, sixty-two fifty in your hand.”

I put the gun back in its holster, my warning as clear as I could make it.

“Out. I’ll have the money for you by the end of your shift.”

My damn pride would not let this go. The bitch owed me a lot of money. I wanted it back. I wanted her. If that meant I had to go into unfamiliar territory with a guy I did not like, so be it.

***

“Oh, my God, he’s coming this way,” my friend Beth practically screeched.

I hit her arm, trying to get her to stop embarrassing the hell out of me, as the hottest guy in school walked our way. Most considered him on the bad boy list, and damn if that didn’t send my heart a flutter.

His eyes locked on mine. I couldn’t stop staring; he had some sort of trance over me. Those blue eyes held mischief and intrigue.

“Hey. How you doin’?” His voice was deeper than most of the other boys in school, making him seem older and more mature.

“Fine,” I responded, my nervousness coming through on that one word.

“Wanna go out?” he asked as my heart squeezed. The hottest guy in school had just asked me to go out with him. Holy fucking shit.

“Sure,” I replied as calmly as I could.

“Cool. Meet me at six at Regan’s.”

Regan’s was a local diner hangout that we all went to regularly.

“Okay.”

He winked then turned, striding off.

Beth’s wide smile mimicked mine as we closed our eyes and did a silent, little, open-mouth scream. I had a date with the Cade Baker.

As I pulled myself out of my thoughts, my breath hitched at the monstrosity in front of me: huge cinderblocks stacked one on top of the other, higher than my two-story house. The ends looked like princess parapets with sharp points in the roof. Windows all around them provided a view of every direction. At closer look, I noticed men standing inside them, their eyes trained on me. I felt like I was going into a war zone instead of a motorcycle club.

I rolled up, stopping the SUV at the closed gate to the entrance.

Unease whispered around me due to the heavy security. Who in the hell were they protecting in there, the fucking president?

A large man built like a stubby Mac truck with a goatee and light brown hair came up to my window, his eyes covered by black glasses. I hit the automatic button to lower my window, waiting for it to clear all the way down.

“What can I do for ya?” he asked, bending into the window with a smirk on his face. He made no qualms about looking down the front of my shirt at my ample cleavage. I hadn’t worn the shirt for that purpose, but I had very few shirts that didn’t show off the girls.

I snapped my fingers three times in quick succession, and his eyes met mine. “My eyes are up here.”

“But down there is just as fucking good.” He licked his lips as lust blazed off him.

Men, they were all the same Booze, bitches, and boobs.

“I’m here to see Cade.” Dammit, I needed to stop that. Cade wasn’t his damn name any more, but separating the two came as a challenge. “I mean Spook. He’s expecting me.”

“Fuck, boss man always gets the prime pussy.” He groaned in a way that suggested this type of occurrence was routine, an idea which I pushed out of my head as soon as it entered.

I arched my brow. “No one gets my pussy but me,” I combated, tilting my head just a touch.

I told things like they were and didn’t back down from a fight or a challenge. That being said, I had also learned how to cut my losses and get the hell out of a bad situation. Burly man here would not intimidate me.

“Doubt that one.” He nodded to one of the guys in the tall tower, and the steel gate slowly started to open with a loud creak in front of me. “Have a good time, and when you’re done, come find me.”

“No, thanks,” I murmured, driving away from him with no intention of searching him out ever.

The wide area felt vast, almost like a whole city block. I had lived in Tennessee all my life, so of course, I’d known of the Vipers Creed. Everyone did. However, to actually see their compound, to be in their space, unnerved me. There was an aura of power that I felt down to my bones, causing me to fight back a shiver.

Vipers Creed MC had bought an old army compound many years ago. The structure on the outside reminded me of the classic war movies I passed by on television. Inside the gates, though, looked nothing like the starkness of the outside.

Several buildings outlined the space. An enormous structure looked like it had two, maybe three, levels to it. I assumed that was the main building, because several smaller concrete structures surrounded a large courtyard with bright green grass and a fire pit off to the side. Some actually looked as if they were homes with plants and flowers around them. It seemed homey, comfortable in a way, like a family lived here and took care of it.

Off to the far left sat Creed’s Automotive, with several hot rods and a few bikes lining its parking lot.

A spot near the larger building came into view. I parked my car, turned off the ignition, and then sat back in my seat, giving myself a moment. I did this before every business meeting just to make sure I got my head on straight. Too bad this meeting had to be with Cade. If rumors over the years served me right, he was the president of Vipers Creed. The two guys I had talked to confirmed it with the boss man bullshit.

People changed a lot over time, going different paths, some good and some not so good. I wasn’t a judge, jury, or executioner in this scenario, but I had to wonder, with all the security, exactly how much Cade changed from the boy I’d known all those years ago. Did his life happen to be so dangerous that he had to be behind cement walls with guys guarding them? And if it were that dangerous, why would he choose this life?

I wanted to bang my head on the steering wheel. It didn’t matter. I was here for one reason and one reason only. I should have found comfort in the knowledge that the meet was business, but it didn’t come.

With a heavy sigh, I opened the SUV door then hopped down to the blacktop. I pulled my shirt down, readjusting myself and making sure the girls were covered. I’d gone simple, wearing a pair of ripped jeans, a blue V-neck top, and flats. I loaded myself up with silver on my wrists and a couple of chains around my neck. I didn’t do much with my hair besides run the brush through it. I liked having my chestnut tresses fall in thick waves down my back.

“Hey, mouse,” a man with a bald head and a tailored beard said from my left. Black sunglasses covered his eyes, and his lips were lifted into a sexy smirk. He wore a leather vest, which had a Secretary patch on it, over a dark blue T-shirt. He was attractive in his own unique way.

Mouse was a strange greeting, but I went with it.

“Hi, I’m here to see Ca—Spook,” I told him, lifting my hand to block the penetrating sun that my sunglasses had no chance of hindering.

“I bet you are.” He chuckled, running his hand over his beard as he appraised me.

I should have felt heat from his intense stare, but I didn’t. Okay, maybe a flicker if I was being honest with myself. I knew how I looked, considering I saw myself in the mirror every morning.

My body drove some guys crazy because I had an abundance of tits and ass. I understood that. It was even flattering that men found me attractive. At the moment, though, I didn’t his need his appraisal or anyone else’s. I just wanted to get this shit over with. In and out. Wipe my hands clean of Cade again.

“Can you tell me where he is?”

The bald man walked closer, holding out his arm with a crooked elbow like an usher would do at a wedding. I smiled. It was cute, especially from a burly man like him. I placed my hand in the bend of his firm arm.

“Let me show you to him,” he said.

We began to walk, and all the while, the heads of the guys sitting in the courtyard area turned and whistles erupted. I ignored the noise, falling into step with the man.

“Thanks,” I told him with a pat on the arm.

“Anything for the boss man.”

While I didn’t know Cade’s life, I had some assumptions. I watched the television shows about men in motorcycle clubs and all the havoc they raised. I didn’t know if they were actually true, but at least I wasn’t going in completely blind. I did know they had a hierarchy of power, and the men had to ride Harley’s. Other than that, I only knew what the TV shows told me.

Who am I kidding? I was pretty much clueless.

The man chuckled deeply. “So, what’s a hot piece like you coming here for?”

When he asked the question, I looked up at him. Lines sprinkled around his eyes and lips like he’d ridden his bike in the sun for hours. His face matched the tanned color of his head. It wasn’t a look, though; it was him.

A small grin played on his lips, catching my attention. I didn’t know if he already knew the answer to his question and was playing me or if he actually was being inquisitive. Once again, I rolled with it.

“I have word one of my girls is here with you. She owes me money, and I want it.”

He opened a solid, steel door, and we walked into darkness. I ripped my sunglasses from my face as the low hum of the newly turned on lights illuminated the room. The scents of stale booze, cigarettes, and sex permeated the air like a thick haze. I knew those three smells by heart because I smelled them every day. They were my livelihood, the reason I had stepped foot in Cade’s world.

“This way,” he said, pulling my arm.

I followed him into a wide open space. Tables were scattered throughout with chairs at each of them. A long bar sat on the other side of the room with loads of liquor, looking like it could give me a run for my money in comparison to the one I had at Sirens.

I felt kind of strange holding this guy’s arm without knowing his name, so I asked.

He lifted his shades to the top of his head and stared down at me with eyes the color of the ocean. They weren’t blue, and they weren’t green. They were both, and they were breathtaking. I got sucked into them momentarily.

“Stiff.”

“Stiff?” I questioned as he walked me through the space and down a long hallway. What in the hell kind of name was Stiff?

Pictures hung on the wooden planked walls, but at the pace we were going, I had no time to look at them without stumbling over my own feet.

He chuckled. “Yeah, mouse. You stick around, and I’m sure you’ll find out why.” He winked then stopped us in front of a wooden door. With his fist, he banged loudly three times, shaking the pictures on the wall next to the door.

“What?” barked a voice from the opposite side. Even with the wood between us, with that one word, I felt my body instantly awaken, wanting to pull toward the sound.

“Someone here to see ya,” Stiff yelled back.

“Nice intercom you have here,” I murmured.

Stiff chuckled.

Little did I know that opening that door would change my life forever.

 

Ardent Prose About The Author

 

Ryan Michele has a huge obsession with reading, which only came to life after her best friend said she had to read Twilight. After reading that series, her entire world changed in the blink of an eye. Not only was she sucked into new worlds and all of the wonderful words authors put down on paper, she felt the urge to begin to write down the characters that played inside of her head. In doing so, Safe was born. Then Wanting You and the Ravage MC series.

 

When she’s not reading or writing, she spends time taking care of her two children and her husband, enjoying the outdoors and laying in the sun.

 

Author Links

 

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Shift by Drew Elyse ♥ Cover Reveal

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shift cover

Title: Shift (Disciples’ Daughters #2)

Author: Drew Elyse

Genre: Contemporary/MC Romance

Release Date: April 19, 2016

Cover Design: By Hang Le

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Synopsis

Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.

After the death of her father, Ash learned an important lesson: being a Disciple is dangerous. The club her father had loved, the club that had been their family, took him from her. She couldn’t stay and wait for the day it would take the man she loved from her, too. So, she left.
Now, she’s the one in danger, and the Disciples are the only ones that can keep her safe. She has no choice but to return to the club and the man she left behind.

A Disciple will fight like a savage for what is his.

Sketch has what he needs: his tattooing, the club, and his bike. Anything else would require a heart, and his was ripped out of his chest a long time ago. It wasn’t coming back.
At least, not until she did.
His heart isn’t the only thing Ash brings with her, though. She has a daughter. A daughter old enough to be his. A daughter Ash claims might not be. But in his heart, Sketch knows the truth. That little girl is his… just like her mom.

This biker knows one thing: a Disciple’s daughter’s return is about to make his whole world shift.

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Excerpt

My feet carried me right to her door. I had the clarity of mind to knock instead of barging in, but I was about to lose patience when the door opened. There, in an oversized Disciple’s supporter tee she’d worn to bed for years, her eyes slightly reddened from tears, was my Ash.

Mine.

“Go away, Sketch.”

Not a fucking chance.

I backed her into the room. She fought it until I muscled my way passed the door frame. Then, she threw up an arm and turned her back to me, walking away to put space between us. I shut the door and silently flipped the flimsy lock on the knob for good measure.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“I didn’t fuck her.”

That affected her. I saw the way her body locked up for a moment before she could hide it.

“Good for you.”

“Ash,” I called.

“I don’t care if you fucked some slut.”

“I didn’t recognize her, not ’til Cami said something. But I didn’t fuck her anyway.”

“Sketch, just get out. I don’t care.”

She could throw attitude all she wanted. I wasn’t going anywhere.

“If I’d realized who she was, I wouldn’t have fucking touched her at all. I would have thrown her ass out.”

Ash didn’t even respond that time. She just turned to glare at me, her arms crossed and her hip popped out just slightly. She was a work of fucking art.

“Doesn’t matter, though. I threw her ass out once I realized I couldn’t fuck her. Didn’t matter that I had no idea who she was.” Still nothing from Ash, so I went on. “I couldn’t fuck her, firefly. I couldn’t have her when she wasn’t you.”

That got through. I watched the nickname her dad had given her as a little girl cause the crack, and my confession impart the shattering blow.

Her first retaliation was anger.

“You expect me to believe you haven’t fucked any club sluts since I’ve been gone? Are you kidding me?”

Call me a pervert, but her anger always did something to me. Ash didn’t get angry easily. She wasn’t one to show that kind of emotion often. When I got it, it always got to me. Probably because I knew I was the only person she would blow up at like that.

“No. I didn’t say that. I’ve fucked other women. You were gone, and eventually I had to accept that. Now, you’re not gone. You’re right fucking here, and I won’t settle for anything else anymore.”

“I—” she stuttered. “What are you saying?”

I moved across the room, not containing my grin when she backed into the wall, trapping herself. I got right up against her, feeling her tits press against me, loving the slight tremble that I knew wasn’t fear moving through her, glorying in the way she jerked from my hard on only to subtly press back against it.

“I’m saying,” I answered, leaning down so my mouth was right at her ear, running my tongue along the shell, “that you’re mine.”

About The Author

Drew Elyse

Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels.
When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.
A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her fur babies Lola and Duncan.
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Just A Number By Fifi Flowers ♥ Release Blitz

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Title: Just A Number

Author: Fifi Flowers

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: March 14, 2016

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Synopsis

Not looking for love.

No details.

Follow rules and restrictions.

Only fun. No feelings.

Forever–not an option.

Simple Flings.

They were all just a number.

Dash Oliver and Willow Dane both shared the same philosophy.

That is, until a merger of sorts.

Thrown together by fate or serendipity, was their connection… their chemistry… their compatibility enough to convince them that their rules were made to be broken and that they belonged together?

Purchase Your copy today!

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About The Author

While daydreaming of her time spent sipping cafe crème in the cafes of Paris,Fifi Flowers, an internationally known artist turn author from the Los Angeles area of California, writes romance novels and paints fantasies with a Parisian flair..

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The Shattered Duet By Alexis Noelle ♥ Release Blitz

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Title: The Shattered Duet
Novels Included: Shattered Innocence (Shattered #1) Shattered Lives (Shattered #2)
Author: Alexis Noelle
Genre: Adult Romance
Release Date: March 14, 2016
Cover Design: Cassy at Pink Ink Designs


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Shattered Innocence (Shattered#1)
I’ve always been on my own and determined to make something of myself. I was the first person in my family to go to college, but I might not be here for long. It’s expensive and I’m broke. Just when I think I have no other options, a whole new world is opened up to me. A world full of depravity and scandal, one that most people would judge me for if they knew I was involved in it.
Damon Shaw has just been assigned to take over the day-to-day operations of the service. He’s absolutely insufferable, and making my life a living hell. He thinks he can control me, but little does he know no one has ever been able to do that.

Shattered Lives (Shattered #2)
What I did to her is unforgivable.
I shattered her completely.
I did it knowing I was wrong the entire time.
Now that I’m here and she is within my reach, I still can’t resist her. My enemy is still lurking and more threatening than ever before. I won’t allow any harm to come to her. I need her to forgive me, and to let me in again.
I need her to be mine.

**The Shattered Duet is for mature audiences only—strong language, and explicit sexual content are apparent.**

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“Alexis did a good job in weaving a story that will definitely keep you enthralled till the very end.” – Alpha Book Club (The Shattered Duet)

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 “I would recommend this book to anyone who is looking for a quick and steamy read with a unique storyline.” – Book Bitches Blog (Shattered Innocence)

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“Alexis Noelle does it again with another heart wrenching, emotional and brilliant novel.” – Books and Boys Book Blog (Shattered Lives)

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ALexis NoelleAlexis Noelle lives in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania with her husband, and three kids. On top a writing career, she is a full-time student and a full-time mom. She loves spending time with her kids, although she has to hide the computer from them when she is writing! She love being active and being outdoors, especially if it involves any kind of shopping.    

She has always been passionate about writing. She loves to read romance books and feels like being able to lose yourself in a book is one of the more exciting aspects. The books she loves to read and write will be ones that make you feel for the characters. Ashley believes that you should have an opinion on every character in a book whether you love them, hate them, or think they are up to something.She also believes that the most important critic is your reader, so she loves to hear from the readers. She want her fans to be open & talk to her about what they want for the characters in the story, and what they would like to see happen.

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Temptation By Kelsey Karson ♥ Release Blitz

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Temptation

Temptation-KKTemptation by Kelsey Karson

Genre: Stepbrother romance

Release Date: March 15, 2016

Fate has twisted the knife in Trish Anthony’s back one too many times. The man who has haunted her dreams and heated her fantasies has strolled into her life for a second time; only this time, he’s become her stepbrother. Even if he felt anything for her, he is now off limits, but this doesn’t stop her from fantasizing about him, or from comparing every man she meets to him.

Logan Carmichael has kept focused on his company and denied himself the one woman who could complete his life—Trish. He tries to fill the void with other women that remind him of her and when this doesn’t work, he decides to take action. No longer is the work he once loved enough to give him happiness.

When the past rears its ugly head, bringing with it devastating news of murder, betrayal, and adultery, can Trish hold on to what’s important?

Buy or read for free with Kindle Unlimited

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Temptation Want

Excerpt:

He tugged off her shirt before he kissed along her shoulder, working closer to her throat, and slipped a hand beneath the thin material of her bra. The brush of his fingers over her nipple had her arching toward him. “Oh Logan…”

The front door opened just then and her father stepped through, catching them in the middle of things and shattering the mood. Jumping off Logan, she grabbed her discarded shirt. Shit!

“What the hell is going on?” Her father stalked into the house, his eyes wide with anger. “Who the hell are you?”

“Logan? What’s going on?” The woman that Trish hadn’t noticed at first followed closely behind her father.

“That’s your son?” Her father took a side glance at his new bride before quickly looking back at them.

“Yes, Mr. Anthony. I’m Logan Carmichael.” He didn’t offer his hand, but he did stand up, placing himself between her and her father.

“What the hell do you have your hands on my daughter for? She’s your stepsister!” Anger had his words echoing off the walls.

“David…I’m sure there’s a logical reason.” Nancy laid her hand on his arm. “Right, Logan?”

“Oh sure, Mom.”

“What could that be? She tripped and landed on you with her shirt off?”

“That’s enough, Dad.” Suddenly, everything that had been building up within her was ready to be let loose. “Logan and I dated years ago and things just happened.”

“Just happened! He’s now your stepbrother. Things like that can’t just happen.”

“Like how you killed Mom?” The words were out of her mouth before she had a moment to think things through.

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About the Author:

KK BrandingMarried with two dogs Kelsey Karson has always been a romantic, believing that love will find a way no matter the obstacles the lovers face. It doesn’t matter if it’s a taboo relationship or the world is against the couple and she proves that in her books. Believe in love and when it comes to romance not let society dictate what you do.

You can contact Kelsey at AuthorKelseyKarson@gmail.com

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Mercy By M.N. Forgy ♥ Cover Reveal

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One bad biker. One gorgeous sheriff.

One intense biker romance.

The conclusion of Zeek and Jillian’s romance releases April 4th!

Now Available for Pre-order Mercy here:

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Blurb

I’m an outlaw. I don’t fall in love and I sure as fuck don’t run… Until Jillian McAdams.

I fell for a law abiding Sheriff, breaking my vows to my own club, and turning her against her family of blue.An outlaw and a sheriff, it can only end in one way… Mayhem.

Now we both have to pay the ultimate price for betraying our families.

I swore to kill my brother, his allegiance sworn to another club, if I ever saw him again.

Yet here I am running to him in hopes to save Jillian’s life…

We both will have to rewrite the rules we know to stay alive.

Even if it means we lose everything we had in doing so…

About the Author

m.n. forgy bio

M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She’s a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn’t live with the “what if” anymore and finally took a chance on her character’s story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.

Stalk Her:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Family Blood Ties Series By Dale Mayer ♥ Promo Blitz

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Vampire In Denial

Vampire in Denial

Book 1

Family Blood Ties 

Blood doesn’t just make her who she is…it also makes her what she is.

Like being a sixteen-year-old vampire isn’t hard enough, Tessa’s throwback human genes make her an outcast among her relatives. But try as she might, she can’t get a handle on the vampire lifestyle and all the…blood.

Turning her back on the vamp world, she embraces the human teenage lifestyle–high school, peer pressure and finding a boyfriend. Jared manages to stir something in her blood. He’s smart and fun and oh, so cute. But Tessa’s dream of a having the perfect boyfriend turns into a nightmare when vampires attack the movie theatre and kidnap her date.

Once again, Tessa finds herself torn between the human world and the vampire one. Will blood own out? Can she make peace with who she is as well as what?

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Vampire In Distress

Vampire in Distress

Book 2

Family Blood Ties

WARNING – there is some mild swearing and the book has a cliffhanger ending!

This is book II in the Family Blood Ties series. Book one is Vampire in Denial. Both books end on big cliffhangers. Book II picks up exactly where Book I left off.

When Tessa rallies friends and family to find her missing date, they uncover a secret…and start a war that causes ripples in all aspects of their lives.

A vampire with throwback human genes. Sixteen-year-old Tessa finds more than just her friend in this journey…she also finds herself in need of rescue … Imprisoned, she has to find a way to escape and reunite with her family before this war takes out those she loves.

The youngest of his ancient line. Eighteen-year-old Cody descends from flyer vampires wants Tessa back at his side where she belongs – even as he struggles with conflicting emotions about his best friend’s kid sister…

A human determined to protect his people. Seventeen year-old Jared thought his life was over then he finds out that his rescuers are vampires…how can he trust them? And then he finds out the truth about Tessa…and that she’s been taken, too…

Three brave souls struggle as war breaks out around them…a war that shows them no mercy.

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Vampire In Design

Vampire in Design

Book 3

Family Blood Ties 

Left behind. Scared. And getting really pissed off.

Tessa and her friends were supposed to be on their way home. On their way to safety. Instead she wakes up alone, with her friends kidnapped. Targeted and hunted, Tessa goes on the attack, desperate to find her friends and family. But her attackers want her throwback genes and will do anything to have her locked down in their lab.

Caught in a dangerous maze, Cody is torn between helping his fellow captives and finding Tessa. He’s young to have the connection that’s growing between him and his best friend’s sister. But any future they might have is in jeopardy if they can’t stop the blood farm from taking over the humans…and his people.

Jared is free at last, but he can’t stop thinking about what he went through at the blood farm and those who helped him. Then he finds out something personal that so horrifying, he has to act…even if it means walking back into the place he swore to never return.

These three need to be strong…the war is far from over…and they are right in the middle of it.

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Vampire In Deceit

Vampire in Deceit

Book 4

Family Blood Ties 

Note: This book ends on a cliffhanger as did the other books in the series. Book 5 is likely to be the conclusion of this series and will be out soon.

Hurt and hurting, Tessa wages war against her own as she tries to protect those she loves and save those that can’t save themselves.

Ravaged by the constant attacks, afraid for her friends and family, Tessa is driven to the ends of her reserves as she strives to beat back the never ending wave of war. Thankfully she’s never alone…inside or out.

Kidnapped and injured, Cody struggles to escape and find the girl whose connection to his heart, mind and soul is growing by the moment. The chances of them all surviving this chaos are slim…but he just knows he can’t live without her.

Jared is determined to help his father and friends. He can’t leave them alone to their fate, even when his own life becomes endangered…again. Only this time, he has allies on his side…or does he?

The war unites humans and vamps as the war ratchets higher to a survival of the fittest…but the people most deeply involved can’t take much more. And then they find out the worst…

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Vampire In Defiance

Vampire In Defiance

Book 5

Family Blood Ties

This was it. For Tessa. For Cody. For Jared. Her family. Her Friends.

Moltere’s Mountain is collapsing. With Tessa, her friends and family still inside. Tessa won’t go down without a fight…and she won’t leave the others behind. But as she races to save everyone, time runs out.

Grounded with an injured wing, Cody wants Tessa to leave while they still can. But most of their friends and family are missing. And he fears the worst…

Jared had led the army into the mountain. Only to find they were looking to annihilate all vamps, not just the bad ones. He can’t leave his friends vulnerable to yet another attack. But the mine is a death trap, and he could be the one that ends up dead.

The pressure is on – to save friends, family, each other – only the enemy is just as determined that no one survives.

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Vampire In Conflict

Vampire in Conflict

Book 6

Family Blood Ties 

The blood farm is gone. Those behind it have either died, been caught, or are on the run. Time to return to the real world.

Only normal life isn’t quite what Tessa expected. Good thing, because there is no ‘normal’ anymore. She’s different. Her family is different. Her friends are different. The world around her is different. Trying to find her place is not easy. She wants nothing more than to be a normal teenager and join Cody and his friends on a Friday night out.

Cody wants the trouble to be over so he can get back to living the life he used to with one major addition – Tessa.

Only Ian and Jewel aren’t healing well, Rhia is acting out of character, and Jared keeps tripping over dead bodies. Then there’s David, who’ll do anything to help Jewel… even something he knows he shouldn’t do.

Something is wrong, and once again it’s up to Tessa to figure out what is happening under the surface of this ‘normal’ life.

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Vampire In Chaos

Vampire in Chaos

Book 7

Family Blood Ties

Tessa’s life has plummeted into chaos. Her father is missing, Goran is unconscious and showing no signs of healing, her mother has taken several steps off the deep end and David, well, she’ll deal with him when she sees him – if she can find him.

Cody isn’t sure what happened to the supposedly successful conclusion to the blood farm madness but he’s back in hell and damn it Tessa is once again leading the charge.

Jared is on the run, again. With no one else he can trust, but Tessa’s friends and family, he searches them out determined to help them solve this war – whether he is welcome or not.

With everyone in distress or missing, Tessa struggles to find answers, and create some kind of order amongst the chaos – before their attackers strike again.

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Vampire In Crisis

Vampire in Crisis

Book 8

Family Blood Ties 

This is the 8th book in the popular Family Blood Ties series and continues the saga of Tessa and Cody as they battle both humans and vampires alike. This book ends in a cliffhanger the same as the other books in the series.

Tessa’s world exploded.

She survived Deanna’s inheritance.

She sees more, hears more … understands more.

But more is not always better.

Cody doesn’t like what’s happening around him. Tessa has walked through hell and she has a lot more to go before she’s clear. He plans on standing by her side – her guardian – whether she wants him to be there for her or not.

Jared can’t believe all trails lead him into trouble. He’d escaped once. Tried to stay out of the mess since. But a friend is missing, and when he tries to get help, the person he confides in goes missing too.

The vampire world was never ready for Tessa before. The new Tessa?

No one is ready for her.

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Vampire in Control

 Vampire in Control

Book 9

Family Blood Ties

The Family Blood ties continues in this 9th installment of the vampire versus vampire saga.

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Find the Full Series Here

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Dale Mayer

Dale Mayer is a USA Today bestselling author best known for her Psychic Visions and Family Blood Ties series. Her contemporary romances are raw and full of passion and emotion (Second Chances, SKIN), her thrillers will keep you guessing (By Death series), and her romantic comedies will keep you giggling (It’s a Dog’s Life and Charmin Marvin Romantic Comedy series).

She honors the stories that come to her – and some of them are crazy and break all the rules and cross multiple genres!

To go with her fiction, she also writes nonfiction in many different fields with books available on resume writing, companion gardening and the US mortgage system. She has recently published her Career Essentials Series. All her books are available in print and ebook format.

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Hearts In Florence By A.M. Willard ♥ Cover Reveal

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A.M. Willard

Coming March 22, 2016

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Synopsis

Raven Bloomberg finds herself stuck in Florence, Italy during a holiday weekend. One meant for lovers, not lonely art gallery assistants sharing the last hotel room with a dark and mysterious stranger.

She decides to loosen up and enjoy what the city has to offer. The only problem is; she may be enjoying herself a little too much.

Pierce Ashton’s eyes are set on Raven Bloomberg, the sexy yet reserved blonde that pushes him to limits he never expected.
Will their thirst be enough to continue the love affair once back in the states?

Will these two souls go back to living life as they did before, or embrace the passion ignited in the opulent streets of Florence.

Find out now in author A.M. Willard’s contemporary romance novella, Hearts in Florence, which is best enjoyed with an Italian Merlot.

About A.M. Willard

A.M. Willard

A.M. Willard is a true believer of soul mates, and happy ever afters. She enjoys reading, sailing, and of course writing contemporary romance with some saucy scenes. Releasing her first novella of the One Night Series on April 12, 2014 has sent her on a new journey in life.

A.M.’s passion for writing started at a young age, but with the love and support from her husband of eighteen years pushed her to follow her dreams. Once she hit that first publish button, she hasn’t looked back.

Publications available from A.M. Willard include the Chances Series, Love on the Screen, and everyone’s favorite, the One Night Series. She’s also had an article published in the Writer’s Monthly Review Magazine and was just accepted into the Romance Writers of America organization in May of 2015.

A.M. Willard was born and raised in the Panhandle of Florida, but resides in Savannah GA with her husband, son, two cats, one rotten dog, two goats, and her six chickens. Yes, we said chickens…

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Where to Find A.M.

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Excerpt

“Come, I want to show you my favorite section here,” he says while dragging me behind him. Now it’s as if he’s a kid in the candy store. Laughter escapes from me while I’m being pulled. I glimpse back and forth between everything as it’s covered in greenery and wonder what it would’ve been like back in the day. As we slow, I notice the Ragnaie up ahead, and I pray that he’s going to say this is his favorite spot. I really want to walk underneath it.

“You coming?” he asks, tilting his head in that direction. I offer the biggest goofy smile ever and follow along. I take in the green trees that cascade over the gravel path making a canopy above our heads. The sunlight peers through open sections of the trees above, creating a spotlight effect down toward the road as we walk along. Pierce takes my hand into his and squeezes it a little more than he has before. I close my eyes and glide through as I imagine being here with my fiancé or lover in the future. We could come here for him to kneel down and propose to me, or to celebrate our first year of being wed.

I stop and breathe in the air around us. I want to memorize this moment for as long as I can. I want to remember exactly what it smells like, the sounds of the birds chirping, and the slight creaking of the branches. I picture that it’s the sound of the branches intertwining more into each other, forming a tighter bond than before. The hopeless romantic in me wonders if that’s the sound that two lovers’ hearts make. When two people who love each other unconditionally grow old together, do their branches mend together to make a canopy of their souls?

Hearts in Florence

Kaleidoscope Hearts By Claire Contreras ♥ Sale Blitz

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KALEIDOSCOPE SALES BLITZ

Kaleidoscope Hearts by Claire Contreras is NOW FREE!

Grab your FREE copy of this AMAZING

second chance romance at the following retailers:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1TIhbEl

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1LcuFjP

iBooks: http://apple.co/1YswiR9

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

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1LbGJ9H

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Blurb

He was my older brother’s best friend.

He was never supposed to be mine.

I thought we would get it out of our system and move on.

One of us did.

One of us left.

Now he’s back, looking at me like he wants to devour me. And all those feelings I’d turned into anger are brewing into something else, something that terrifies me.

He broke my heart last time.

This time he’ll obliterate it.

This is a standalone.

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EXCERPT

“Look at me, Elle,” he says, using the deliciously low demanding voice that once made my toes curl and my eyes roll back, and I have no choice but to tilt my head to give him my attention. “Forget those lame guys you’re dating.

Let me take you out.”

           My heart, if possible, spikes further in my chest, overriding all warning of the impending chaos that’s sure to come. I try turning my attention to the poster hanging beside me, but the kissing couple makes me look back at him and the deep green eyes that are burning into mine. My stomach does a flip-flop, the way it always does when he looks at me that way and I try to take my hands back because these feelings are too scary for me to deal with right now, but he holds them tighter, bringing them up to his mouth and kissing the tip of my ring finger. Why did he pick that finger to kiss? I pull harder and he finally lets my hand drop.

           “I can’t,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse.

           A myriad of emotions flash in his eyes before they settle on determination and I’m forced to take a step back, away from his scent, away from his warmth, and into the cold closet behind me.

           “Why not?”

           I sigh, finally looking away, back down to his naked feet. “I just can’t.” He knows why not. He shouldn’t ask me that question. “What’s Vic doing, anyway?”

           His body moves into mine so quickly that I don’t have time to react to his large hands clutching my arms or his face dropping until we’re nose to nose. I just stare, wide eyed, waiting for his lips to fall over mine, but they don’t. He just looks at me, breathes on me, lets me breathe on him, and he groans. And that fucking groan travels from his body into mine and crawls into the core of me, draping over every fiber inside of me.

           “What do you want, Oliver?” I whisper against his lips. “What do you want from me? You want to kiss me? You want to fuck me? You want to come into my life like the hurricane that you are and tear down everything I’ve rebuilt and disappear just as quickly?”

           His lips brush slightly against mine, just a breath of a touch as he stands there, crowding me like he’s about to devour me. But he won’t. He never goes in for the kill. He just lures me, casts me, reels me in and pulls away. His hands drop and his face leaves mine with the same quickness and I feel a pang deep inside me that I wish wasn’t there.

           “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, shaking his head in a movement that makes his hair sway back and forth. His eyes are soft on mine now and I can almost hear his thoughts: I should have never kissed her. I should have never—

           My brows rise in surprise at the apology, though. There are so many things I can say to him, but the sudden defeated look in his eyes keeps my mouth shut. Finally, I exhale and push off the wall, standing in front of him, with enough distance between us that we can’t reach out and touch each other.

           “It’s okay just… don’t do it again. The kiss the other day was a mistake…” I stop talking and walk past him, putting my bra away and sorting through my underwear drawer like it has some sort of hidden treasure or something. This time when I feel him come up behind me, I drop my head and exhale. He really needs to stop sneaking up behind me.

           “Oli—“ I start and gasp when I feel his lips on the back of my neck, soft and warm. My heart thunders and my hands begin to shake inside the drawer so I close my eyes and focus on breathing. He drops another kiss right beside that spot. I never knew the back of my neck was so sensitive. The feeling sends a ripple of sensation down my arms and through my body.

           “It wasn’t a mistake,” he says in a husky whisper that makes my flesh break out in goose bumps. “You’ve never been a mistake. You want me to tell your brother that I want to take you out? Is that what it would take?”

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About the Author:

claire bio

Claire Contreras graduated with her BA in Psychology from Florida International University. She lives in Miami, Florida with her husband, two little boys, and three dogs.

Her favorite past times are: daydreaming, writing, and reading.

She has been described as a random, sarcastic, crazy girl with no filter.

Life is short, and it’s more bitter than sweet, so she tries to smile as often as her face allows. She enjoys stories with happy endings, because life is full of way too many unhappy ones.

Website: http://clairecontreras.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CContrerasBooks

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ClariCon

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Heartless by Kelly Martin ♥ Blog Tour

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HeartlessHeartless by Kelly Martin

Series: Book 1 of 3
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publication Date: January 17, 2016

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Some things can’t be saved.
What would you do if your guardian angel wasn’t sent to protect you from the world but to protect the world from you?
For thirteen years, Gracen Sullivan dreamed about a red-eyed demon named Hart Blackwell who tortured her every night. Her mother freaked when she found out about her daughter’s “hallucinations” and forced Gracen to go to the doctor, who prescribed some very powerful medication which kept Hart out of her head for five years.
A week ago, Hart came back and brought a friend.
But something has changed, and Gracen is seeing Hart when she’s awake too. And the other “friends” in her dreams? They have been found dead.
The police want to talk to her.
Her boyfriend has become distant.
Her dreams are becoming more and more intense.
Hell wants her.
Heaven has to stop her.
When push comes shoving, can Gracen fight the evil eating away inside her or will she be forced to embrace it and destroy the world?
Book 2: Soulless (2/14/2016)
Book 3: Breathless (9/4/2016)

EXCERPT
@sullyGray: What ya up to today?

I sip my decaf coffee—which totally defeats the purpose of coffee, I understand that, but regular coffee gives me worse migraines than I already get—and stare a hole into my monitor. Yeah, I’m still one of those people who have a monitor. I have a desktop, a keyboard, a computer chair, and the whole mid-2000s thing going on in my bedroom/office. It’s the one room in the apartment where I can get away from everything. My place to shut the door, turn up the music, and dance if I want to dance. And I do want to dance. Nineties’ music is my specialty, and I use that word very loosely.

My room is my place to shut out the world. To stay awake and not sleep. To hide from my nightmares. To hide from Hart.

Every morning for the past week, it’s the same routine. I get up and rub my throat, because it hurts like a mother from all the screaming I apparently do in my sleep. As a side note, this is why I try not to sleep now when Sam’s here. Which means I don’t get a whole lot of sleep, but what’s sleep when you are eighteen? Eighteen year olds don’t need sleep. We need parties and friends and boyfriends to not think we are crazy.

Oh, I’m sure Sam does, though, because he’s caught me on a few occasions. Screaming. Yelling. Trying to fight Hart. Especially that first night. I had the honor of falling asleep in Sam’s lap while we watched a movie downstairs. Then, BAM, Hart was there. I was on the table. The same table I hadn’t seen in five years. Hart smiled. Hart cut.

Apparently, I screamed.

Sam woke me up, all big eyed and scared. He poured me some red wine, covered my shoulders with a blanket, and waited for me to talk about it. I drank every bit in about three swigs—incidentally, the best wine ever—and told him it had just been a nightmare.

He knows about the five pills I take every night before bed and four I take in the mornings. He doesn’t know what they are for. We’ve been dating for two years, and I haven’t felt the need to tell him about it—okay, I’m scared the heck out. I’m afraid he’ll leave me if he finds out. Sam is, well, he’s Sam. Samson David Asher. He’s perfect and good and all that other stuff I’m not. And up until a week ago, he’s been wonderful. Bless him…. He tries. He’s at Crimson Ridge on a football scholarship, so you know he’s athletic. It’s just that I don’t want to ruin this. He’ll think I’m crazy. His father, the therapist, will know I’m crazy. I’ve met him one time. That was the one and only time Sam took me over to his house. Plenty for me. He spent all of supper not necessarily breaking his Hippocratic Oath, but damn well coming close. He never used names, but I could tell ole Jane Doe was as batty as a belfry.

And Doctor Asher would laugh.

And Mrs. Asher would laugh.

Sam wouldn’t laugh.

I’m so glad Sam didn’t laugh.

Didn’t mean I wanted him to know about me.

At the time, there wasn’t much to tell. It wasn’t that I was lying. I took medicine to keep the scary dude from eating me in my dreams every night. That’s all. And it worked. It all worked. So I didn’t have to tell Sam.

That’s why I didn’t.

Then we moved in together, which my mother hated even though I told her we weren’t sleeping together or even in the same room. Even then in the back of my mind, I was scared that maybe the dreams and Hart would come back.

Looks like I was right.

Yay me.

When I finally roll out of bed, Sam’s already gone for the morning. He gets up before God and goes running. Then he goes to the gym. Then class. I don’t see how he can keep that up for the rest of the semester, but if that’s what he wants to do, who am I to complain? Makes it easier to fake being normal when I’m alone.

I sit and fidget with my coffee in my hands, staring at the screen, waiting for a reply. I need someone to talk to. Someone human. I’ve talked to Hart all night. He cut me open and the girl… well, she watched.

You try living with the same nightmare. You try being ripped apart every night in your dreams. For the past week, I’ve had to do it all over again. I thought it was over. I still take my damn medicine and nothing—he’s still there. He’s still torturing me, and I have no idea why. It’s getting to me, though. Seeing those red eyes in the middle of that boyish face. In fact, it’s those red eyes that stand out with Hart. Not sure why I named him that either. He’s just always been Hart. Like I’ve always been Gracen, and Sam’s always been Sam.

He’s always been my tormentor.

If it weren’t for the eyes, Hart wouldn’t be very bad looking. Tall, tan, toned, big muscles, which he uses to pull my skin off. By the way he tugs and rips, it seems like difficult work. I have the easy job. All I do is lay there naked and scream.

Hart has longish brown hair, which gets coated in blood sometimes. Lovely. I totally blame him for it. It’s longer now that he’s been gone for a few years. Funny how the mind thinks of weird things like that.

He isn’t real, of course. It’s just my brain doing what my crazy brain does. Some people dream of rainbows and kittens. Occasionally, they will have a clown or a possessed doll thrown in for flavor. To remind them that their mind is a pretty screwed up place. Sometimes a person will see themselves hanging down from the ceiling and scream while they sleep. Me? I’d give anything to see a freakin’ clown in my dreams. All I have, all I’ve ever had, is Hart.

I’m a lucky duck.

But, despite all that, I try very hard to be normal. Whatever that means. I smile when I figure I should smile and laugh when it seems appropriate to laugh. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty socially messed up. I hate crowds, and if I don’t have a backspace, well, I’m screwed. Royally. I like backspaces. The world needs a backspace. Imagine how awesome everything would be with backspaces.

For the most part, except for a few glitches—like the one time I dated Earl Flynn… and my entire sophomore year—I think I’ve done rather well for myself in the I’m-just-like-you department. It’s been exhausting, worrisome, and entirely too stressful, but I did it. And I’d been fairly good at it until this week. Until I’d moved away from home. Moved in with Sam. Drank a little extra wine every night. Sam offered, and who am I to turn it down even if I’m underage. The one bad thing I do in my life. And then I started dreaming of Hart again. My inner demons came out in my dreams. Very deep.

I thought I’d gotten out of the woods. I thought Hart was gone, and everything until the end of time would be hunky dory, all sunshine and roses.

I never should have thought that.

Idiot.

Is Tina ever going to message me back?

Seriously, I have class in like thirty minutes, and I need to finish getting ready. I know she’s online. The little green dot tells me that. And yeah, I guess I could wait for her on my phone, but keyboards are so much more convenient. To me anyway.

Tina is from California. I’d think she wouldn’t be up at the central time crack of dawn—or seven a.m.—but she is. She’s usually up before me. Messaging me. Asking me if I’m okay. If I slept well. Typical friendly Internet banter. A side note: I enjoy typical friendly Internet banter. It’s relaxing. There are no expectations. There is no judging. And yeah… backspace city up in here.

Tina, apparently, is one of those up and at ’em folks. I want to be like her someday. She’s my happy buddy, which isn’t as weird or creepy as it sounds. My therapist actually suggested it once. To keep away the demons, he’d said.

Dr. Sheldon took Hart very figuratively. I don’t think he ever thought of him as a person or a thing. Just a crazy hallucination in a crazy girl’s mind.

Maybe Dr. Sheldon is right?

My foot will not stop shaking as I scroll down my page, waiting for Tina to pop up. I know she has a life and kids and a family and she’s never seen me, but still, I need to talk to her. Talking to her makes me feel less insane.

Talking to a person I’ve never met in a room, by myself, makes me feel less insane. Yep, I’m totally normal…

The world is weird.

The shaking of my foot causes the blanket, the one I always have draped over my legs when I’m sitting at my desk, to fall toward the floor. Thanks to my lightning quick reflexes, I grab it before it crashes to the floor and pull it back to its upright position.

I’m freezing.

Then again, I’m always freezing. Always. I can’t ever remember a time when I felt warm. I totally blame Hart—even if he has nothing to do with it. The doctor, an actual medical doctor, said she thinks it’s some kind of hormone imbalance. At eighteen?

I’m falling apart.

Because I needed something else to break me.

I don’t care though. Not really. I can just keep a blanket on me and live in a world of denial where everybody is cold, and the hot or warm ones are mutants. It would be totally awesome if I were the normal person in the world and everybody else were the freaks. It would make my life.

Anyway…

@tinaM Mornin’ Nothing much. Getting ready to head out. You? Everything okay? Did you sleep well last night?

Loaded question. I place my fingers on the keyboard to type out my usual: “I slept fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Peachy. Awesome. Couldn’t be better.” But I freeze. Those words mean nothing to me. They sound like someone who is moving through the motions but her heart isn’t in it. And it’s not. Not really. I feel deflated. I thought Hart was gone, but he’s back. I thought I’d be able to have an awesome life in Crimson Ridge living on my own with Sam. I thought a lot of things. I thought wrong.

“I’m fine” is what humans say to each other if they are dying. Because we are polite and think our problems are nobody else’s problems. They are hurting worse than us—or someone in the world always is—so we shouldn’t complain. We shouldn’t tell anybody what’s bothering us. Not at all. Never. In the scheme of things, it isn’t important. We aren’t important.

I’m not important.

I should tell Tina I’m fine. This morning, though, for some reason, I don’t. My fingers seem to have a mind of their own as they type. Not really. Rough night…

My fingers itch to keep going. To share anything about Hart, the dreams, and the dark-haired girl who joined him last night. It has to mean something, right? It has to be a clue or an omen. I have to be dreaming about these things for a reason. Maybe if I talk about it, tell someone else about it, then I’ll be able to figure it out. A new, fresh brain on the matter, because, frankly, I’ve been thinking about it as long as I can remember. All I can come up with is “Why me?”

And lately, “What the hell are these new visions for?”

The old familiar beating pounds in my temples, and I know it’s coming. A migraine. I have them a lot unfortunately. And mainly when I’m trying to think about Hart. Trying to figure him out. I guess I’m trying to figure myself out, which is a whole new level of crazy. I’d make an excellent research project for someone if I told them the truth.

I can’t even tell Tina.

Even through my uncooperative fingers, my aching head, my anxious innards, I want to tell Tina some form of the truth, but I can’t. I just can’t.

But I’m sure it’ll be okay. I type back to cover myself. I’m a moron for even saying as much as I did. She’ll worry. I’ll have to explain. Lots of steps I don’t want to do.

I’m a thousand times sure it won’t be all right. Might never be all right again. But I say it because I’m supposed to. I’m human after all.

While I wait, the hardship of Internet chatting, my mind wanders. I really do like my apartment. It is nice and cozy. Two stories. The bottom has a ’90s-style kitchen with an eat-in area. A sliding door leads to the backyard. When I say backyard, I mean a little spot of land probably no bigger than a postage stamp. But it’s fenced in, and as a long as we pay the rent, it’s ours.

Ours… my mom doesn’t like me living with Sam. She likes Sam. Likes him as much as any guy I’ve gotten serious with; of course, Sam is the only guy I’ve ever gotten serious with. More for his determination than mine. That boy seemed to really like me when we first started dating, but now…

Anyway, my mom has enough to deal with, and I sure don’t help. Her sister, my Aunt Willow has been, well, she’s in a mental hospital. We aren’t sure exactly what made her snap, but snap she did. One morning she was fine and then… she wasn’t. Mom got a call that her sister was in the emergency room. She’d walked right in front of a car. Suicide they figured, which threw us both for a loop because Aunt Willow had always been full of life. I mean, yeah, she was a little weird at times, but aren’t all aunts? Actually, this all happened about a week before I met Sam. Aunt Willow used to live with us. Took care of me when I was little. She helped out because I didn’t have a dad. I mean, I’m sure I do somewhere, but I just don’t know him. Don’t know if I ever want to know him. That’s a lie. I would like to meet the man someday. Curiosity and all that.

So, Aunt Willow went insane, I met Sam, and two years later, we moved into our apartment at Crimson Ridge for school. Mama worries about the premarital sex since, apparently, that’s how I came into the world and she doesn’t want me to make the same mistake, which is an awesome thing to say to your daughter. Basically calling me a mistake. I know she didn’t mean it like that, but after all the grief I’ve put her through in the last eighteen years, I feel like maybe she meant it. She was young. Didn’t ask to have a kid. And BAM, there I was. It’s not like I was the easiest when I got to be a preteen either with the nightmares and the therapists.

But my mom, if she really knew Sam and me, she’d know that she has nothing to worry about. We’ve been good. No sex—not that I haven’t wanted to. Believe me, I have. But Sam hasn’t. He’s shot me down every time. It’s enough to make a person start to feel bad about themselves. Sometimes, I think that’s part of the problem with us. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate that he’s a gentleman. Still, it’s not easy when it feels like even your boyfriend doesn’t like you.

Overdramatic? Yeah, probably. Can’t help my feelings, though. I can help them as long as I don’t talk about them. Talking is bad. Talking gets you new medicine, and if that doesn’t work, I don’t even want to think about it.

I wonder how many people in the world pretend to be normal. I wonder what normal would be if everyone stopped trying to be it and actually acted like themselves. I bet the geeks would inherit the world because everyone is at least a closet geek. Who doesn’t freak out over TV shows and Internet memes of their one true paring? Or fangirl? I do in the comfort of my own bedroom, staring at my own little computer, in my own little slice of Heaven. I love it here. Sam’s room is down the hall. The bathroom separates us. Like I said, he doesn’t venture to my end of the world very often.

I love my room. It’s white, clean, and cozy. I have dark purple curtains on the windows, shutter style doors on the closet, a starry fairytale lamp next to my bed, a quilt that looks homemade that I bought from the store, and my desk. All the comforts of home without having to hear my mom crying every night.

I should probably call her.

In here, in my little room, I’m safe. Or at least I used to be. I’d shut the door and everything would just go away. Now? Now I have Hart back, invading my dreams, killing me, bringing people to watch (which is extremely creepy, believe it or not). He invades my happy place and makes me feel uneasy in my own room.

I hate it.

I hate him.

I hate myself for not being strong enough to push through the nightmares.

I hate myself for having that little sliver of doubt—that little nagging feeling in the back of my mind—that maybe Hart Blackwell isn’t imaginary. That maybe he’s real. Or maybe I’m getting as crazy as Aunt Willow.

@tinaM: GRACEN! What’s up with you? Did you fall off your chair again or something? Helllllooooo…

So I sort of forgot to answer her. I suppose that happens. Happens to me when I start thinking and my mind wanders. #dangerous

@sullyGray Yeah, sorry. I’m here. Just thinking.

Like I said, thinking is a dangerous thing. And admitting to thinking when trying to act all fine is a dangerous road. I don’t like dangerous roads. I’d rather just stay on the straight and narrow. That sounds pretty good to me. Straight. Narrow.

Wait? Which road leads to Hell? Because I’d like to take the other, thanks.

@tinaM Panic attacks again?

Sometimes, I wish I’d never told her about the panic attacks. I’ve never mentioned Hart, obviously, but on the day the nightmares started coming back—has it really just been a week?—I messaged her. I guess I didn’t have my wall up completely yet, and I let it slip that I might possibly be having some anxiety issues. Now, my anxiety issues are all about the crazy dude in my head and not actually me… is it weird that I think of us as two different people? Yes? No? Maybe?

I so don’t want to think about that.

The thing is, I did tell Tina about the panic attacks and I regretted it exactly a millisecond after hitting the send button. I’d been careful to put the wall back up ever since.

I should tell Tina the truth, or some sane variation of it. I should give her some reason to stick around, because I do need to talk. Not to a therapist or a shrink, though I’m sure my mother wishes I would visit Dr. Sheldon more regularly. But a friend. An actual friend. Someone I can just talk to. Someone who understands…

Then again, who can understand this?

Part of me is afraid I’m going crazy.

Part of me is scared I’m not, because if I’m not, if what is going on in my nightmares is real, then I’ve got 99 more problems to deal with.

That’s why I can’t tell Tina. It’s why I can’t tell anybody. There is something inside me that will not allow me to have a meaningful conversation with people. It’s like part of me is missing. Not just the scary part either. It’s like I’m missing some important part of myself that everybody else has and God forgot to put inside me. Like everyone else has a nice awesome soul and I have… Hart.

So not a fair trade.

I sit up straighter and place my hands on the keyboard, ready to tell Tina something without telling her anything at all. It’s how humans communicate, right? I’ll tell her that, yeah, I’m having some anxiety issues. It’s the second full week of college, of living with Sam, of being away from home. College assignments are different from high school, and I’m a little stressed about doing well on them. I won’t tell her about Sam or the weird fight we had last night. Almost like he wanted to pick it so I’d go upstairs and leave him alone. I’ll tell her it’s anxiety and not that I haven’t slept more than two hours a night in a week. I’ll tell her a lot of things because she is my friend and that’s what friends do.

They lie to each other so they can make each other feel good.

@sullyGray I’m fine. Really. Just Monday morning, kwim? I’m ready for it to be Friday again. Whoot!

@tinaM Tell me about it! Mondays are so hard! Gotta go. Talk to you later. Have a great day!

@sullyGray You too!!!!!!

And then I add some smiley emoticons, because that’s just what a person does. I hit send and lean back in my computer chair. Monday morning. Time for Professor Mitchell’s class. Time to see Marcy, AKA the best Teacher’s Assistant in the world, and listen to the professor talk about some random event that happened in the Civil War. Because that’s what he does. He talks about random events that didn’t matter to anybody but does it in such a way that you care. Professor Mitchell is one of those teachers who just makes you want to learn, makes you want to listen. He has something special about him. Something no other teacher has had, and I’ve only had him three times. I have his class Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday. A great way to start the week, and a great way to end it.

Can’t exactly say enough about Professor Mitchell. I mean, he’s him.

Sweet, intelligent, awesome, and at least twenty years older than me. Handsome in that old guy way. Not that I’d want anything to do with him—not in that way. Not feelin’ that, but I know some other people in the class wouldn’t mind.

The professor loves talking about the Civil War. More than just the war, the families involved, the real people behind the “Hollywood machine,” as he calls it.

I shut down my computer and stretch in my chair. Yeah, it’s Monday, but it’ll be a good Monday. It will. I’ll go to class with a positive attitude. I’ll listen. I’ll take notes. I’ll text Sam—funny how he’s not sent me one before now—and I’ll be happy.

Or, at the very least, I’ll pretend to be happy.

That’s all people really want, right?

Sunshine. Marcy, the T.A. for Professor Mitchell. Tina. Sam—somewhere. I’m living my life. I’m moving on. I’m totally ignoring Hart, who is currently whispering in my head about candles.

I’m fine.

I’m totally normal.

Heartless Teaser

 


Kelly MartinKelly Martin

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If you ever have a question or comment, feel free to email her at kellymartin215 @ yahoo . com ♥ You can follow her writing adventure at www.kellymartinbooks.com

Kelly Martin writes paranormal, contemporary, historical, and YA fiction. She has been married for over ten years and has three rowdy, angelic daughters. When she’s not writing, she loves taking picture of abandoned houses, watching horror gamers on YouTube– even though she’s a huge wimp– and drinking decaf white chocolate mochas. She’s a total fangirl, loves the 80s and 90s, and has a sad addiction to paranormal TV shows. {Basically, she likes creepy stuff.} Her favorite characters are the very flawed ‘good guys’–and ‘bad guys’ who don’t know they are evil. She loves giving her readers books with unexpected twists and turns, but (here’s a hint) most of her books have the ending spelled out in the first chapter. See if you can figure it out.

 

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