Promo: Then, One Frozen Christmas Eve by Spencer Dryden

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On a freezing cold Christmas Eve, a broken furnace unites a lonely heating technician and his client who is forced out of her home.

On a snowy, frigid Christmas Eve in Minnesota, a heating technician makes an emergency call to a townhome without heat. Don is unable to repair the unit and tells Becky, the occupant, she must vacate the premises and stay in a hotel for her own safety. Becky breaks down and tells Don she has no money and no place to go. She has no friends or family locally and has maxed out her credit cards relocating from San Diego. Don invites her to stay with him until the furnace can be replaced.

Don is smitten by her good looks and warm, inviting manor. He begins to fantasize about a romantic connection, but is restrained by a crippling fear of his sexual inadequacy. Safe at his apartment, Becky turns up the heat on the shy divorcee. Can she melt his fears of intimacy and give him an unforgettable Christmas?

 

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Excerpt

It was more than the combination of fear and hope in her eyes. I see that all the time as a heating and cooling technician. It was something else. Something erotic that made my cock stir as I stepped into her chilly townhome. My cock was buried under three layers of warm clothing—it was twenty-four cock-shrinking degrees below zero outside—but there had always been a path from eyes to cock. Usually it was a luscious pair of breasts pouring from a peek-a-boob shirt, or a firm, round ass that flashed the go code from eyes to groin. All fair-weather sightings. She was so deeply layered in mismatched clothing there was no sign of her sexuality, except for her sparkling blue eyes that quickly changed from fearful to full of mirth and a hint of lust. They were stroking my cock.

This surreal moment had been orchestrated by mother nature, who decided on December 23 to dump a paralyzing thirty inches of snow on Minneapolis, followed the next day, Christmas Eve, by an artic blast locals call a Polar Vortex. It drags extremely cold air directly from the North Pole. This isn’t the cold of some cutesy Hallmark Channel romance movie where a couple trapped in quaint cabin by a winter snow rekindle an old love between commercials for Viagra and pain relievers. This is bone-chilling, mind-numbing, dangerous cold, where just a few minutes of unprotected exposure causes severe frostbite. It’s one of the reasons we native Minnesotans aren’t all that fashionable six months out of the year. We’d rather be warm than look hot.

My employer, a big heating and air-conditioning contractor, had cancelled all Christmas vacation requests the minute the snow started flying. Didn’t matter. The airport and interstate highways were closed. Without a four-wheel drive tank like my service truck, negotiating city streets was difficult, if not impossible.

Heating systems were failing due to the extreme conditions. It made the cash register ring for my employer. As much as I hated it, the crisis offered me lots of overtime, earning pay at time and a half. I even volunteered to be on call for Christmas Day, which paid triple time. I didn’t have anywhere else to go anyhow. My wife left me for my best ex-friend Ray six months ago. Sometimes in the quiet of the evening, I still heard her gasping in ecstasy as I came through the front door. I was home early, only to find her beneath Ray, her legs splayed wide as he rammed her furiously. She never made that kind of joyful noise when we made love. It took my breath and my heart. I had turned on my heel and walked out.

 

About the Author

Spencer Dryden is a new writer, but an old guy on the threshold of draining any reserves left in Medicare and Social Security. In real life he is a handyman, an at-home dad, inventor, and web videographer, living a quiet life in the frozen tundra of Minnesota (USA).

He earned an MBA from a prestigious Midwestern university, but is so far behind on the career earnings scale of his peers that the university has offered to refund his tuition if he will return his diploma and disavow his affiliation, lest he continue to denigrate the school’s impeccable brand.

His first book, a novella, Bliss was published in April of 2014 in the Covert line at Breathless Press. It is a story of a woman’s struggle with sexual shame. Press.http://www.breathlesspress.com/index.php?main_page=product_free_shipping_info&cPath=26&products_id=559

He can be reached at multiple locations:

Check out his website: http://www.fictionbyspencer.com/

He’s on Google + : https://plus.google.com/+SpencerDryden

Tweet Him at: @SpencerDryden

He is a regular contributor to the multiauthor blog, Oh Get A Grip: http://ohgetagrip.blogspot.com

And Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008150288001

If you liked this book, please leave a review at Breathless Press or at Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomspencer_dryden

 

Promo: Red Dress by Erzabet Bishop

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Being naughty never felt so nice…

Cecily’s husband Neil has kept her waiting one too many times. After another lonely night of movie watching, she decides to take her pleasure into her own hands. Tangled up tinsel, a smoking hot red dress, and a holiday wish come true are in store for Cecily when Neil comes home from work and catches her being a very naughty girl.

 

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Excerpt

“What are you doing?” Neil’s voice slid along her spine, startling her.

Cecily wobbled on her heels, trying not to fall. She reached out and rested her hand on the bed, trying not to think about what almost might have happened. For once she was glad of her obsession with organizing by list. If she’d reached into that drawer…

Her eyes were drawn to the phone on his hip and she twisted her fingers together. Had he viewed the pictures?

“I was getting changed.”

Setting down his briefcase and a large bag, Neil crossed his arms over his broad chest and narrowed his eyes. A curl of dark brown hair fell across his broad forehead, his lips thinning in displeasure.

“I had a meeting that ran late and I had to stop and pick up a few things for our evening. You were supposed to be ready at seven.”

“I was.”

“But you aren’t now.”

“No.” Cecily blushed and edged the point of her black dress shoe against the carpet. “I thought maybe you’d forgotten.”

“Forgot?” Neil’s eyes snapped up, his voice sharp. He moved forward, his long legs crossing the span of the bedroom in moments. Fingers gripped her chin and forced her gaze upwards. “I would never forget you. Change of plans. We’re staying in…for now.” Neil released her and stepped back, his eyes molten.

 

About the Author

1218a

Erzabet Bishop has been crafting stories since she could pound keys on her parents’ old typewriter. She has only just learned that it is a whole lot more fun writing naughty books. She is a contributing author to the Silk Words website with her Fetish Fair, Gingerbread Dreams, Holiday Cruise and Temptation Resorts interactive romances, Sci Spanks 2014 Anthology, Potnia, A Christmas To Remember, Taboo II, Forbidden Fruit, Club Rook: The Series, Sweat, Bossy, Cougars, Spank or Treat, When the Clock Strikes Thirteen, Wicked Things, Unwrap these Presents, Unbound Box, Milk & Cookies & Handcuffs, Corset Magazine: Sex Around the World, Vaginas and Vulvas, Man vs. Machine: The Sex Toy Issue, Smut by the Sea Volume 2, Hell Whore Volume 2, Can’t Get Enough, No Safewords II, Slave Girls, The Big Book of Submission, Hungry for More, Gratis II, Gratis III, Anything She Wants, Dirty Little Numbers, Kink-E magazine, Eternal Haunted Summer, Coming Together: Girl on Girl, Shifters, Coming Together: For the Holidays and Coming Together: Hungry for Love among others. She is the author of Lipstick (upcoming), Dinner Date, Tethered, Sweet Seductions: The Erzabet Bishop Collection, Red Moon Rising (upcoming), Red Boots (upcoming), Charity Benshaw’s Enchanted Paddle Emporium (upcoming), Holidays in Hell, Pomegranate (upcoming), Red Dress, Sigil Fire, Written on Skin: A Sigil Fire Short, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation.

Erzabet was a finalist for the GCLS 2014 awards in two separate categories. She lives in Texas with her husband and furry children, and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects, and watch monster movies. When she isn’t writing, she loves to review music and books.

Follow her reviews and posts on Twitter @erzabetbishop.

Links:

The Romance Reviews: http://www.theromancereviews.com/100004193823883

Wix: http://erzabetwrites.wix.com/erzabetbishop

Are: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Erzabet+Bishop

About Me: http://about.me/erzabet.bishop/#

Facebook “like” page: https://www.facebook.com/erzabetbishopauthor

Author WordPress blog: http://erzabetbishop.wordpress.com/

Amazon author page: http:// amazon.com/author/erzabetbishop/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6590718.Erzabet_Bishop

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/erzabet.bishop

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/erzabetbishop/

Lesfic Blog: http://lesficandlipstick.wordpress.com/

Review Blog: http://erzabetsenchantments.blogspot.com/

Author Database: http://authorsdb.com/authors-directory/2690-erzabet-bishop

 

Promo: A Touch of the Heart by Pelaam

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Christmas—a time for Santa, elves, and angels. But they don’t exist. Or do they? Alex is about to find out.

Alex loves making Christmas special for the customers who visit his shop, despite his own sadness and loneliness. He employs Michael as his store Santa, and when a young would-be shoplifter, Jackson, is caught, he’s persuaded by Michael to give him a chance. To Alex’s surprise, he’s attracted to Jackson, but he really has no idea how to deal with it.

Will Alex get a touch of the heart from an angel to help him find the love he deserves?

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Excerpt

Heading downstairs on Michael’s heels, Alex ignored the curious glances of the gathered crowd. The guard had taken the young man over to Jayne, his senior till operator. The pinched and sour look on Jayne’s face told Alex she, too, had become judge, juror, and executer in regards to the would-be shoplifter. She met Alex’s gaze squarely as he approached.

“It’s all right. Everything’s under control. I’ve told security to call the police. He probably wanted to sell the scarf to get money for drink or drugs.”

An inner voice told Alex that wasn’t the case. Yes, the man had piercings, and tattoos, but that was no reason to make such a sweeping judgment. Especially in front of onlookers. The guilt and sadness in the young man’s eyes were unmissable. This was no seasoned thief. His skin was pale, but blemish-free, and he didn’t strike Alex as someone who did drugs.

Stepping between the guard and Jayne, Alex held up his hand. “Don’t call the police just yet. I haven’t decided whether I need them or not. What’s the story here, Max?”

“Seems this feller thought he didn’t need to pay like everyone else.” The guard shook the young man’s arm. “Spotted him slipping a scarf inside his jacket. Are you sure you don’t want me to call the police? This lady did.” Max indicated Jayne, who glowered at the young man.

“It would teach him a good lesson to be locked up.” Jayne sniffed loudly.

Instinctively, Alex felt certain that was far from the truth. He shook his head. “Not now. Thank you for spotting what happened, Max, but I’d like to speak to him in my office.”

“I’ll hang around.” Max glared at the man as Michael and the would-be shoplifter headed toward the stairs.

“Don’t let him fool you with some sob story,” Jayne called out.

“That won’t be necessary. I can call the police if needed.” Alex glanced over his shoulder and wasn’t surprised to see Jayne, the guard, and a few customers huddled around the till. He shook his head.

Once in his office, Alex sat at his desk with Michael and the stranger opposite him, seated next to each other. He steepled his fingers and leaned forward. “Why don’t you tell us your name to start with?”

“Look, I did it. Just call the cops and get this over, okay? I knew my luck would run out eventually. Don’t drag it out.” The young man’s green-eyed gaze was filled with defeat, and his voice was world-weary. Alex’s heart ached at the despondent tone.

 

About the Author

Living in clean, green New Zealand, Pelaam is a best-selling, multipublished author of gay romance and erotic books. When not busy writing, she can be found indulging in her other passions of cookery and wine appreciation.

Pelaam’s book Breath of the Feathered Serpent is a finalist for the 2014 Rainbow Awards in Gay Futuristic/Sci-fi and has been given an Honorable Mention. Bedazzled and Firebird were a combined finalist for the Rainbow Awards in Gay Futuristic/sci-fi 2013.

 

Facebook:

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E-mail:

pelaam@hotmail.com

Promo: Sins of an Angel by Ishabelle Torry

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Seven Deadly Sins… One tempted angel…

As an Angel of Mercy, Nayla’s duty is to collect the souls of the mortals who’ve given up on life and return them to the Guff for rebirth. But her loyalty to duty is challenged when she’s sent to destroy the essence of Grant Farris. Calling upon the Archangel Michael, she begs for leniency. After all, how can one be happy when all one has known is pain?

Grant has no idea that his eternal soul is facing total annihilation. As far as he’s concerned, this life can go straight to hell…which is exactly what Lucifer intends. But when the angel Nayla interferes and is granted mortality to aid in Grant’s redemption, Lucifer realizes an even better opportunity. He could have his very own Angel of Mercy!

Can Nayla save Grant’s soul without losing her own to temptation?

 

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 .
Excerpt

The smell of cinnamon teased Nayla’s nose. She licked her lips. “I didn’t see it set out earlier. Perhaps just a small bite then?”

The server scooped a chunk onto her plate with a smile. “Bon appetite.” She winked.

Nayla plopped down into her seat across from Grant and anxiously dipped her spoon into the steaming apple dessert. She closed her eyes as the warmth of the fruit and spices melted on her palate. She scooped a bigger piece up and shoved it into her watering mouth, licking the spoon clean.

“Is that good?” Grant sniggered. “You seem to be enjoying it”—his gaze dropped to the newly clean utensil still pressed to her lips—”a lot.”

Heat spread across her cheeks and down her neck. “I must confess, this is the most delicious thing I can recall ever eating. What is it named again?”

“Apple pie. A good ol’ American favorite.”

“Oh. I love it! Do you like to eat pie?”

Grant grunted, his dark eyes darting back to his own plate with a grin. “Oh man, do I love…pie.”

She scraped up another bite. Excited over sharing something in common, she held her spoon out across the table. “I insist you eat a piece of my pie then! It is marvelous.”

Grant’s fork clattered to the table. He sat back, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I think I’m going to skip dessert today.”

Nayla leaned over the table, swaying the apple pie before him. “Just one bite…one lick? I dare say you won’t regret it.” Her Slavic accent rolled the “r” in regret.

His mouth clamped down on the spoon, pulling it away from her hand. He swallowed the bite without really chewing, tossing the silverware on his plate. “Eat the muffin, Nayla. We have to leave soon.”

 

About the Author

At the age of fourteen, Ishabelle Torry stole her first romance novel, Warrior’s Lady by Madeline Baker, from her mother’s glass “no-no” cabinet. It was then Ishabelle fell in love with the idea of new worlds, love conquers all, and the ability to forget the real world as she took on the lives of characters that were just as real as the people she interacted with every day. It wasn’t long before her fixation with romance novels landed her in the high school office to collect the books confiscated during the previous week. Ishabelle swore one day she’d write the kind of book that would keep readers so enthralled, they’d too risk confiscation to keep turning the pages!

https://www.facebook.com/IshabelleTorry/info

Follow on Twitter @IshabelleTorry

Blog: http://authorishabelletorry.wordpress.com

Check out Ishabelle’s other books:

http://www.breathlesspress.com/index.php?main_page=advanced_search_result&search_in_description=1&zenid=bce3ca46fefe0e657212ba79d5a7406d&keyword=Ishabelle+torry&x=0&y=0

Promo: Horse of Bells by Pelaam

horse of bells

A legendary horse, magic, and a man shrouded in mystery. Who can he trust? Caolan risks both his heart and his life to uncover the truth.

When his life is saved by a stranger, Prince Caolan feels an immediate connection to the man, and promises to meet him again. Forced to break that promise to protect his brother Donal, Caolan waits for the day he can return to the forest.

On their trip home, almost a year later, he and Donal are tricked by their step-mother into attempting to steal the legendary Horse of Bells from the infamous Dark Prince Tuathal. Honor-bound to accept the geis she set them, the brothers leave their castle to complete the quest.

During their journey, they meet the enigmatic Traveler. Caolan is confused and troubled by his reaction to the man. Is he a friend, or are his intentions darker and more deadly?

 

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.
Excerpt

The morning came without further event, and Caolan consigned his fear to simple nervousness regarding his brother’s challenge. They rebuilt the fire and set some water to boil while they washed at the stream. Laughing together, they returned to their camp and stopped abruptly. A stranger sat at their fire, roasting a couple of skinned rabbits as if he had been expected for breakfast.

Caolan stared at him. He felt as if he should know the man, and yet he knew no one with such unruly sandy-brown hair. The newcomer’s beard seemed better maintained; it was but a light coating of slightly redder hair. He couldn’t stop his blush as the man’s gaze locked with his as if he had been caught. They were the same frigid blue-grey the sea had been the day they had left for the Isles—cold, uninviting, and daunting.

“If I were a spy for the dark prince, I would by now be on my way there, laughing at how two young idiots were going to walk straight into the arms of waiting soldiers the minute they set foot in Prince Tuathal’s kingdom. It would probably be the only thing that would save you from his wrath, to know that you sat and openly discussed an attempt to steal the Horse of Bells.”

“Then you are clearly not a spy.” Caolan observed.

“Bravo. You have a modicum of brains to offset your beauty,” the stranger retorted.

The words, cold as the look in the man’s eyes, would normally have made Caolan bristle with anger. However he found himself inexplicably wishing the stranger was less hostile toward him.

“What do you want?” Donal asked. Caolan recognized the brusque, assertive tones as his brother sought to take control of the situation.

“I would travel with you. These are lonely and dangerous parts. I gain company and you gain someone well-versed in the treacherous swampland through which you must pass.” The stranger spoke as if his offer was the most natural thing in the world.

“I cannot believe you would do so out of generosity.” Caolan felt unable to resist the jibe.

“That surprises me not,” the stranger countered. “Perhaps our hearts are alike. For payment…” He paused as if considering what would be suitable, yet Caolan was certain the man already knew exactly what he wanted. “Payment will be my asking the truth of you on your honor at a time of my own choosing.”

Caolan stood and stared with his mouth open but unable to formulate a reply. As if from a distance he heard Donal answer for him.

“It’s agreed.” Donal winked at him, but Caolan was certain there would be no way of telling a falsehood to this man.

“Good. Then let us break our fast. I already know your names. You may call me Traveler,” he said.

With a sinking heart Caolan sat next to Donal and accepted a plate holding a generous piece of roasted rabbit.

While his brother sat and ate his serving with gusto, Caolan’s attention was more focused on the man who now sat with his head bowed. He knew he’d never seen Traveler before, and yet there was a familiarity that made Caolan ill at ease. A niggling feeling, that Traveler was more than he seemed, made Caolan’s stomach twist into knots. Who are you really, and why do you make me feel I should know you?

 

About the Author

Pelaam lives in clean, green New Zealand. She is a multi-published author of gay male romance and erotica across time and space. When not writing, she indulges in her other passions of cookery and wine appreciation. She can be found on Facebook, and a full list of her published works are on Lazy Beagle Entertainment.

Promo: When Dark Falls by Pippa Jay

when dark falls

When Dark Falls…she rises…

In a city where Dark Technologies Inc. now runs the show, Kadie Williams has more immediate concerns than the fall of Blaze, their guardian superhero. Almost every morning for the last few months she’s woken up with cuts and bruises on her body and no idea how she got them. There are no nightmares. No evidence that she sleepwalks or any sign of a break in. And nothing to tell her who’s been cleaning up after her. As just one of thousands of civilians conscripted to slave away in the labs of Professor Dark, she knew there’d be trouble ahead. But she never expected it to be so bad, or so personal.

Desperate for answers, Kadie looks to the new defender of the night, the only person who can hinder the total domination of Professor Dark—Nocturnelle. The mysterious vigilante superhero came from nowhere with her cybernetic sidekick Shadow, set on putting an end to the brutality of Dark’s regime. But as his laboratories work on a new secret super-weapon, Nocturnelle and Shadow may not be enough to save Nephopolis…or to save Kadie either.

 

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Excerpt

Nocturnelle perched on the carved griffin statue decorating the tower’s cornerstone, with hundreds of feet of empty space between her and the ground below. Her second skin felt tight. It was a familiar sensation and yet always the first thing she noticed on waking, as if her body needed to remind her of the fact. She stretched and her outer skin crackled like leather. She flexed her fingers, the delicate oh-so-white digits a stark contrast to her black arms. Silver lines marked her left forearm, and she frowned at them. She was meant to be impervious to blades and bullets, and yet somehow, not too long ago, she must have injured herself.

As she rose, her skin creaked. She stretched again, and then tugged her hands through her hair, pulling the thick swathe of black silk from her face and knotting it at the back. Darkest Night forbid it should get in her way. The second skin pressed tight against her forehead, running around her eyes and mouth, cradling her chin. She ran her fingers around the edges, tracing the outline. Perfect. Her body tingled as though electricity danced in her veins, and she smiled. Breathed in the evening air. This was her time.

Viscous and reeking, the night sky hung over the city of Art Deco towers and buildings like an oil-slick. Behind her, the metallic chinking of the cloudburner cooling after a day spent scorching the sky ticked away the seconds like a clock.

“Nelle?”

The deep male voice sent a shiver down her back, and she turned. “Ah, my faithful Shadow. Ready for another night-time jaunt?”

A figure stepped out of the shadows to join her. He matched her for height; his whipcord frame clad in a charcoal-colored armor vest, black combats, and a hip-length military jacket. When the rooftop lights hit his face, the chiseled jawline showed; his skin a dark tan. He wore a mask over his eyes, but his teeth gleamed white when he smiled. And when he smiled, something inside Nelle set her heart racing.

“Ready and set, Nelle.”

“Excellent.” She nodded to him. As one they yanked grapple hooks with lines from their belts and tossed them toward the spire of girders that surmounted every tower run by Dark. The auto-clamps engaged on contact, grasping the metal post tight in unrelenting jaws. Nelle jumped from the rooftop first, and gravity snatched the air from her chest.

Floor after floor of lit apartment windows rushed by her, as dizzying as the wind whipping through her hair. The jolt as she hit the cable’s end made her laugh. She let loose an exultant cry as she swung in a graceful arc around the edges of the tower and the rotund shape of one of Dark’s airships cruised toward her.

 

About the Author

After spending twelve years working as an Analytical Chemist in a Metals and Minerals laboratory, Pippa Jay is now a stay-at-home mum who writes scifi and the supernatural. Somewhere along the way a touch of romance crept into her work and refused to leave. In between torturing her plethora of characters, she spends the odd free moment playing guitar very badly, punishing herself with freestyle street dance, and studying the Dark Side of the Force. Although happily settled in the historical town of Colchester in the UK with her husband of 21 years and three little monsters, she continues to roam the rest of the Universe in her head.

Pippa Jay is a dedicated member of the Science Fiction Romance Brigade, blogging at Spacefreighters Lounge, Adventures in Scifi, and Romancing the Genres. Her works include a YA science fiction novel—Gethyon—published through BURST (Champagne Books), a scifi romance novella—Tethered—published by Breathless Press, a YA paranormal romance—Restless In Peaceville—published by Lycaon Press, four self-published short stories (Terms & Conditions Apply, The Bones of the Sea, Reboot and Hallow’s Eve), and she’s one of eight authors included in a science fiction romance anthology—Tales from the SFR Brigade. She’s also a double SFR Galaxy Award winner, been a finalist in the Heart of Denver RWA Aspen Gold Contest (3rd place), and the GCC RWA Silken Sands Star Awards (2nd place).

You can stalk her at her website, or at her blog, but without doubt her favorite place to hang around and chat is on Twitter as @pippajaygreen. You can also find her on Facebook, Pinterest, Google+, and Wattpad

 

 

Promo: Palehua by A. J. Llewellyn

asian boy with long hair

Lio Paikai, reincarnated warrior of the lost Hawaiian kingdom, finds trouble in paradise. The old island gods demand Pālehua from his family: blood sacrifice.

Lio Paikai is adjusting to both his new, extremely passionate relationship with his lover, Kord Ashley, and his status as ‘Ailani, the reincarnated, loyal warrior who fought for the last king of the Hawaiian islands Oahu and Maui. Having severed his ties with his mother, Kalani, Lio grows closer to his father and his new family, but Kalani won’t leave them alone.

Violating a restraining order of protection, she is arrested. Hours later, when Lio accompanies his stepmother to a birthing class, a strange woman falls from the sky landing on the hood of his SUV. Old wounds, old curses, and the demand for retribution threaten to destroy his entire family. Lio must uncover the identity of the fallen woman and soon learns her heartbreaking connection to his mother and the damage it has caused Kalani her entire life. Lio must right an ancient wrong and appease the old island gods that demand an immediate Pālehua: blood sacrifice.

 

Buy Link

 

 

Excerpt

One hour and five minutes later, we walked out of the house. Marcella kept assuring me I’d done very well as she held my arm. My back, neck, and shoulders ached. I’d had to act out giving birth to a baby-doll while Marcella pretended to be my birthing partner.

I felt sorry for my dad. The way she’d screamed at me gave me every indication that she would be a real Nazi in the delivery room.

I was in total panic. I’d had to pretend to give birth to the fake baby so that I empathized with Marcella’s process, but found the experience so traumatic I didn’t think I’d ever get over it. I kept trying to imagine her vagina opening to a huge, cavernous space as my father massaged the baby’s emerging head with olive oil.

Had he done this for me and Louie? What about Marcella? Wouldn’t the pain be horrendous?

“You did great, sweetie,” she said. “You’re a champion.”

“No, I’m not. I’m a wuss. I couldn’t handle the belly.”

“You were fabulous.”

“Who was better, me or Kord?”

“Oh, sweetie. Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Kord, right?”

She flashed me a guilty look. “Well, he sang show tunes as he delivered.” She frowned suddenly. “I should have realized then that he was gay.”

As we got to the SUV, she peered inside. “Sweetie, do we have any apples in there?”

No, we didn’t, but a quick stop over at Foodland would fix that.

As I let her into the passenger side, I stared across the road at a newish house right on the corner. I had no idea why it held my interest, but I caught a sudden glimpse of ghostly children running across the street to it.

I blinked, and nostalgia filled my soul. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The streets were all gone, and I stared at miles and miles of sugar crops. I was standing on the site of an old plantation.

I saw a flash of a different building right on this corner. It was the kind of old Hawaiian-style building that marked a different era. Painted white and with a red roof, it had a lanai in front. I swear I smelled ice cream and chocolate. I heard laughter.

Across the top I saw in faded lettering the name Goo.

And just like that, the image faded.

When I got into the driver’s side, Marcella said, “What are you seeing, sweetie?”

Shaking my head, I threw off the sudden emotion I felt. “I know it sounds weird, but I got a glimpse of what used to be there.”

“What did you see?”

I hesitated. “A huge sugar plantation. And right where the house is, I saw a shop. A lot of kids went to it. I think it was a kind of soda fountain.”

She reached her hand over to mine. “It was. It was the old Plantation Store, but people called it Charlie Goo’s Store after the owner. It closed about twenty years ago.”

I nodded. A strange, unsettled feeling came over me.

“You think maybe the spirits are getting you ready for a new case?” she asked.

“I’m thinking, maybe.”

We weren’t wrong.

Twenty seconds later, something fell on the hood of the car, making us both scream. It wasn’t a coconut. It wasn’t a bowling bowl. It wasn’t a vagina or even an empathy belly. What fell on my hood and scared the heck out of both of us was a woman. At least, I thought she was.

And she’d fallen out of the clear blue sky.

 

About the Author

A.J. Llewellyn is an author whose obsession with myth, magic, love, and romance might have led to serious stalking charges had it not been for the ability to write. Thanks to the existence of some very patient publishers, A.J.’s days are spent writing, reading, and dreaming up new worlds. AJ has definitely stopped Google searching former boyfriends and given up all ambition to taste-test every cupcake in the universe to produce over 150 published gay erotic romance novels.

A.J. wants you to read them all.

You can find this author lurking on Facebook and Twitter—part-time class clown being another occupation. When not writing or reading, A.J.’s other passions include juggling, kite-boarding, and spending a fortune buying upgrade apps for Diner Dash.

 

A.J.’s links:

http://www.ajllewellyn.com

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Promo: Blood Bond by Lisa Casian

blood bond

When Bowen pleads for Cassian’s help in saving his beloved from Eris, Cassian must fulfill his duty as Shade and lead the shadow army, risking more than just his soul.

Centuries ago, Cassian formed a bond with the goddess of chaos and stripped all that made him human, releasing the evil inside him. He became a Shade, leader of the shadow army. But Cassian could never allow the evil to fully entrench his heart.

Anna is running away from her life and her father. Switching places with her maid, she accepts a job as a healer, unaware that the job would require much more—her body and her heart. She gives both willingly to Cassian.

When Bowen pleads for Cassian’s help in saving his own beloved from Eris, Cassian must fulfill his duty as a Shade and submit to Eris in order to save her. But it requires releasing Nyx out of Hades, along with a shadow army to rule over the humans. And with Anna’s life at stake, Cassian has much more to lose than just his soul.

Only working together with his brother will allow them to save those they love and, hopefully, the world. If they don’t kill each other first.

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Excerpt

Cassian pulled away, releasing her lips from his, but remained close enough to feel the heat of her breath on his face. Her scent a mask he wore over his heart. He wanted to tell her to be afraid of him, of Bowen, even of Bas. To stop risking her life for them. But all that came out was, “Drop the visual of him and think of me.”

She smiled, a hint of blush on her cheeks, as he felt a fool. Grateful that they stopped, he stepped out of the carriage and into the night.

The ship bobbled in the still, calm waters. The sails fluttered as the men began preparing the voyage. But Cassian didn’t pay much attention to that. What he did see was a tall woman with flowing red hair waiting for them on the deck. Anna let out a groan.

Versandi.

Versandi smiled a brilliant smile at Cassian, and Bowen laughed beside him. “She is something, isn’t she?”

“She’s not here for me, dumbass,” Cassian scolded.

Bowen dropped his smile.

“Isabeau wants you to feed.” Cassian turned to look at his brother. “And if you ever, ever, lay your hands on Anna again, I will kill you.”

Bowen narrowed his gaze. Cassian was glad Anna had already boarded with Samir so she wouldn’t feel guilty of the threat. Bowen seemed to recover, and a smile spread on his face, though his eyes were hollow. “You better keep her close then.” He tapped his forehead and climbed on board.

 

About the Author

Lisa Casian is the author of Bloodrose and the sequel Blood Bond, published by Breathless Press.

Lisa completed a Bachelors degree in Psychology with a minor in Criminal Justice at Northeastern Illinois University, and works in the community strengthening families. She spends her spare time reading and writing great romance with tough heroines and bad-boy heroes.

Lisa resides in Chicago with her family, a household of kids, and the bliss of chaos. You can follow her on her blog http://www.lisacasian.wordpress.com; on twitter @LisaCasian; and Facebook https://www.facebook.com/LisaCasianAuthor

 

 

Promo: To Have or to Haunt by Ishabelle Torry

to have or to haunt

Can Melanie’s Halloween bash survive Leah’s ghostly tricks?

Melanie Fyre is a passionate teacher determined to raise funds for the town’s school. What better way to do it than by expanding the local businesses? All she needs is land. Untouched for years thanks to a local superstition, the Crowe property is perfect. If Melanie can debunk the myth, she can get the use of those 600 beautiful acres. She just has to prove to the town that Leah’s ghost is not haunting the mansion, even on Samhain night.

Burned to death and proclaimed a witch, Leah Crowe’s soul has been cursed to an eternity of loneliness, all because she dared to love a woman. When the saucy Melanie arrives at her home to throw a costume party that mocks Leah’s very existence, the bitter ghost resolves to renew the town’s fear of her name. Will Leah’s ghost ruin all of Melanie’s plans?

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Excerpt

That voice… Melanie’s head snapped left, then right. “Leah?” On either side stood groups of people, but no one she didn’t recognize immediately—even through the plethora of costumes. She turned in a circle, searching for the face the voice belonged to. “You know it’s not nice to stalk people.”

“I was thinking much the same in regards to someone inviting themselves into my home.”

Melanie jumped. It sounded as if Leah were speaking directly into her ear. “Your home? As in Leah Crowe’s home?” She laughed so hard she snorted. “So that’s what you were doing in the room upstairs…haunting me?”

Once again, Leah’s voice sounded near. “No. I had only intended to ask that you leave and take your party elsewhere. I will haunt you if you fail to comply.”

Melanie crossed her arms and chuckled. Someone was definitely pranking her.

Circled by a group of men paying homage to her costume, Ally randomly waved from across the room, raising a glass of beer. Melanie smirked. So busted! This scenario had her best friend’s name written all over it. She nodded, licking her lips. “Bring it on, ghost chick. This party needs some entertainment anyway.”

ishabelle
About the Author

At the age of fourteen, Ishabelle Torry stole her first romance novel, Warrior’s Lady by Madeline Baker, from her mother’s glass “no-no” cabinet. It was then Ishabelle fell in love with the idea of new worlds, love conquers all, and the ability to forget the real world as she took on the lives of characters that were just as real as the people she interacted with every day. It wasn’t long before her fixation with romance novels landed her in the high school office to collect the books confiscated during the previous week. Ishabelle swore one day she’d write the kind of book that would keep readers so enthralled, they’d too risk confiscation to keep turning the pages!

Promo: Mercury Rising by Rebekah Lewis

mercury rising

Nymphs in peril, obsessive gods, females who literally cannot admit when they’re wrong, and unruly satyrs. Just another typical day for Hermes.

When Zeus refuses to demand Apollo release Daphne from captivity in Olympus, the only option left is for Hermes to free the nymph himself. A simple task for a god with his skillset, but risking the wrath of Apollo never went well for anyone.

However, imprisoned nymphs aren’t distraction enough when a former flame crashes back into Hermes’ life. It’s been a long time since he laid eyes on Hybris, and the timing couldn’t be worse. As the goddess of hubris, she has many quirks—such as being incapable of apologizing. And no matter how much she tries to assure him she can be trusted, the memory of her betrayal remains.

As they formulate a plan to rescue Daphne, Hermes soon suspects no threat is greater than the tribulations of the heart.

Don’t miss the first part of The Adventures of Hermes, a companion series to The Cursed Satyroi.

 

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Excerpt

“I don’t have time for this, Hy. I have things to do. Important things.” A promise made to a satyr, one Hermes intended to keep. A damsel in distress. Heroics and all.

Hybris yawned. “Yeah. I see. Meandering around California and swimming at the beach is a matter of life or death.”

Shaking his head, he opened the glass door into the house. He attempted to shut it behind him, but she shoved past. Hermes made an extensive effort not to notice she still smelled like pomegranates.

He failed.

“Well, I was waiting for Zeus to summon me before you showed up with your judgy…judginess.” He closed the door and turned back to find her relaxing on his couch, despite her soaking wet clothing. Rude.

She studied her nails. “And did he?”

“Not yet.”

“Then you aren’t doing anything important.” Her gaze flicked down to his groin. “Yet.” Standing, Hybris advanced toward him.

“No. Oh, no, no, no. No.” Hermes rocketed away and hovered out of her immediate reach. “We are so not going there again. Not this time. Not this day. Not happening.” Was she for real? After all she’d done, she wanted sex from him?

Unsure if his ego or her influence on his personal hubris affected him, a warm smugness took hold. He’d always been cocky, but she could bring it out to the maximum.

“And why not? I’m a beautiful woman, you desire me, and you have an open schedule. Take off your pants and pleasure me.”

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About the Author

Rebekah Lewis holds a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature. She is an award-winning cover artist for digital publishers, and enjoys every minute of it when not immersed into a world of satyrs and Greek gods. Always feeling the need to be productive, she can be found creating something whether with words or images, or with arts and crafts. She resides in Savannah, GA with her cat, Bagheera.

If you would like to follow Rebekah on social media or contact via email, use the following information:

Website: http://www.rebekah-lewis.com

Email: lewis.rebekah@rocketmail.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RebekahLewisAuthor

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6537317.Rebekah_Lewis

Twitter: @RebekahLLewis