Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Excerpt Reveal: Lost In Between by KL Kreig

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Lost in Between by KL Kreig is coming February 20th! Keep reading for an excerpt!

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Blurb:
We all have one. A price. That magic number that will get us to agree to do anything, be anything. Don’t sit on your gold-plated high horse and say you don’t because you do. Everyone does. Each of us has something we covet enough that we’d sell ourselves to have it. What’s my tipping point, you ask? Apparently a cool quarter mil will do the trick. What does one do for 250 large, you wonder? Anything the infamous, gorgeous playboy of Seattle wants. For the next four months I’ll be Shaw Mercer’s arm candy, his beck and call girl, his faux girlfriend. I’ll be his to command, mold, push and pull in any direction he sees fit. I’ll fight falling into bed with him. I’ll fight falling in love with him even harder. I’ll fail at both. And when my past and present collide in the most unexpected of ways, I’ll learn that while one man’s love for me has never died, the only man’s love I really want will never be mine.
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Excerpt:
As long as Noah and I have known one another and as close as we are, he’s far from an open book. He holds some of life’s secrets so close to the vest, he’ll likely take them to his grave. So how he knows Ms. Randi Deveraux of La Dolce Vita is still a mystery he won’t divulge. When he told me his plan and showed me the picture of the woman who’d play my love interest for the next several months, I was immediately drawn to the her, but it took me a few seconds to realize why. It was her. My spicy little Goldilocks. The one I haven’t heard from. The one I haven’t been able to get out of my fucking head for the past eight days. The one my cock involuntarily gets hard for in the dark of night. The glossy-colored print I stared at for long minutes was a complete contradiction to the fiery woman I’d met. On paper her exterior was flawless. Not one sculpted eyebrow out of place. Striking blue eyes rimmed with the right amount of shadow, liner, and mascara that made them alluring but not slutty. Pouty lips painted a deep shade of maroon, lined impeccably so the stain didn’t seep, then glossed enough in the middle to draw your attention to their fullness. Hair curled into loose ribbons that fell over her shoulders and down her slim back. But while the outside was practiced perfection, the inside screamed dead. Not damaged, not broken or bruised, but lifeless. This beautiful creature went through the motions. She moved through life without living. I don’t know how I saw it, or why, but I know it wasn’t a product of my overactive imagination. This woman’s pain was rooted deep but she put on an award-winning fa├žade that told the outside world otherwise. I saw the same thing when I stared into her fierce eyes under the cover of my sunglasses days ago, but I also saw something else. Smoking embers buried under piles of ash. God help me, but for some reason I want to be the man who stokes those smoldering cinders until they spark into a burning inferno, bringing her roaring back to life. Standing before her now, I’ve no doubt I’m the igniter, the single match needed to wake her from the living dead. “Summer, is it?” I close the door behind me and move to the couch, gesturing for her to sit. She doesn’t. She just blinks rapidly like she’s seeing a ghost. That makes me smile for some reason. I know the name she’s using is fake. I hate it. Not the name, per se, but the fact that I don’t know her real one. I told Ms. Deveraux my circumstances and my concern around using a fake name. The press will eventually find out and it’s best if we’re up front in the beginning rather than if they dig, thinking we’re hiding something. That would be disastrous. She agreed but told me the decision was up to Summer. If she agreed to my terms, I could plead my case. If not, then her anonymity was still protected. “You don’t look like a Summer,” I say casually as I take a seat and cross my legs. Although in a way she does. She’s hot and sultry and I’ve no doubt she’s nice and moist in the place I’m dying to drive my cock. Jesus, she is absolutely mouthwatering. And she has the sexiest fucking voice I have ever heard. It’s no wonder I can’t stop thinking about her. She crosses her arms and cocks a hip in irritation. “Is that so? What do I look like then?” Mine. Why that disturbing word pops into my head, I haven’t a clue. She is yours temporarily, though. If she agrees. “How is your neck by the way?” That seems to catch her off guard because her cocky bravado falters. “Uh…fine. It’s fine.” She unconsciously reaches up to palm it. My fingers itch, wishing they were on her skin instead. I still remember the electricity that ran down my arm when I touched her before. It set my cock on fire and it hasn’t stopped burning since. “You’re lucky, you know. I could be wearing a neck brace right now and be lawyered up.” “And you’d still be just as beautiful.” I ignore the lawyer comment. I know it’s just a dig. When she blushes and looks away, my grin gets wider and I allow myself a few seconds to absorb her, head to toe. I find myself zeroing in on that tiny diamond stud in her nose, now catching the light. I first noticed it when she pounded on the window of my Rover calling me names. I generally find them childish, yet on her, I find myself incredibly turned on by it. “Why don’t you take a seat?” On my lap would be preferable. Defiant eyes snap back to mine. “Hit and run anyone else lately?” “Hit and run?” I chuckle. “I didn’t hit and run you. I took accountability.” “Yeah. After I dumped car parts into your lap, it was pretty hard to deny it any longer.” Hell. This woman is full of restrained passion. She just needs someone to help her unleash it in a very controlled manner. “Why haven’t you called about your car? Change your mind on whose fault it was?” I’m goading her, but Hot. Damn. The sparks firing from her are overly addictive. “Oh, it was your fault, all right,” she snaps. “And I’ve been…busy.” “Yes, I can imagine you have a very full schedule.” I sound more sarcastic than I intend, but the thought of her with other men makes me feel exactly the way I felt when I thought of Noah with her. Her lips thin. She’s madder than a hornet. I’m harder than a two by four. “Why are you here, Drive By?” Drive By? I laugh at her feisty spirit. God, I want to kiss her. Feel her tongue sparring eagerly with mine. See if she tastes of rage and raw energy. “I was under the impression you were agreeable to meeting with me.” When Noah set this up, I insisted on three things. One: it take place in Ms. Deveraux’s private home with her alone. There’s no way in hell I will be caught on film coming and going from her “business.” Two: I meet with Ms. Deveraux in advance and work through the contractual details to my satisfaction. Let’s just say I now feel comfortable we have a mutual interest in keeping this arrangement buried deep. And three: I be allowed to personally meet with “Summer” before she signs the contract. Surprisingly, that was the toughest piece to negotiate. Seems Ms. Deveraux is very protective of her, or maybe she’s that way with all of her employees. Everything I have done to secure her has deviated from Ms. Deveraux’s normal course of business, but this situation is far from normal. It’s reckless at worst. Precarious at best. “How did you find me?” Sheer, dumb luck. “I’m very resourceful.” Her forehead creases. “This is a mistake.” She turns to leave and I panic. True blistering panic sears through me at the thought she’s about to walk through that door and I may never see her again. I don’t know her real name. I don’t know how to contact her and if this meeting goes south, I know I won’t get anything further about her from Randi Deveraux. If she walks out on me now, I highly doubt she’ll give me the time of day when she finally does call Dane about her car. I don’t know why I care that I spend the next few months with her and only her so damn much. I just do. “Wait,” I plead. She stops but doesn’t turn. I have no idea what possesses me, but I close the distance between us until I’m a whisper away. Our body heat plays off each other, growing hotter by the second. “You haven’t even listened to my proposal,” I say against her ear. Her breath kicks up. Good. She’s not unaffected by me, and that will play into my hand nicely. “You can get someone else,” she replies softly, without conviction. Drawing her long hair off her shoulder, I let my finger feather across her bare flesh. It’s soft and silky. She shivers. I suppress a moan. Fuck, I want her so much. It makes no sense. “I don’t want anyone else,” I tell her truthfully, keeping my voice low. “Why?” she breathes. I don’t know why. I have no idea what it is about her that draws me in. I wish I did. I need to stop it. I should end this right now—look at a dozen other pictures and pick a woman whose very presence doesn’t twist me into knots and make me have thoughts I’ve never had before. Thoughts that make me uncomfortable. It’s unnerving. But, fuck me. I can’t. There is just something different about this woman and I won’t rest until I find out what it is. “Have a seat. Just hear me out. Please,” I tack on sincerely. She stands motionless and I wonder what her next move will be. My hands curl into fists as I restrain myself from throwing her over my shoulder and hauling her to my house. I think she could benefit greatly from a hard hand and a red ass. I have a feeling she might even enjoy it. When she floats effortlessly to one of the velvet-covered chairs, I release a veiled breath. Picking up the contract from the edge of Ms. Deveraux’s desk, I make myself comfortable across from her and place the paperwork on the table separating us. Her eyes drop to it but she makes no move to pick it up. “So what’s your proposal, Mr. Knowles?” “Mr. Knowles?” “That’s your name, right? Dane Knowles. Wildemer & Company?” Amused, I rest my elbows on my knees and grin at her. “No. Dane is my assistant. I told you to call him and he’d take care of the damage to your death box.” “Death box?” She sounds offended. “Do you know what the safety rating is on that little tin can you drive?” When she opens her mouth to respond, I talk over her. “Five point seven out of ten. You’re basically driving around in your own steel coffin.” I expect a hot retort or for her to leave in a huff. What I don’t expect is a genuine, breathtaking smile that lights up her face like summer and makes my cock knock uncomfortably on my zipper in a futile attempt to reach her. My God, she’s trying to kill me already. “Are you a walking Kelly Blue Book of safety ratings, Mr.…?” “I have a vast array of useless Trivial Pursuit knowledge up here,” I retort with a smirk, finger pointing to my temple. I’ll never admit that I looked it up after our little accident. She could be seriously hurt in that ridiculous miniature box on wheels that somehow passes for a fucking car. Hell, had I hit her any harder, she would be in the hospital. “And I’m Shaw. Shaw Mercer.” “Shaw Mercer,” she repeats slowly like she’s tasting my name for the first time. Savoring every consonant and every vowel. Fuck. I sit back and cross one leg over the other to hide my rock-hard erection. “Any relation to Preston Mercer?” I nod, impressed that she tied me back to my father instead of referring to me as one of Seattle’s most eligible bachelors. She’s intelligent and up on politics. I like that. Immensely. If you ask three-fourths of the residents of Seattle, they wouldn’t be able to tell you how many branches of government there are, something that’s taught in middle school, let alone who the mayor of Seattle is. “So why is the mayor’s son…here?” Her eyes are locked on mine, waiting on an answer. When she swallows I follow the delicate line of her neck down to the swell of her breasts that peek out from the light pink strapless flowing dress she’s wearing like a fucking Greek goddess. One flick of my finger and I could find out the color of her areolas and the size of her nipples before I draw one into my mouth for a sample. My mouth waters at the thought. The conversation that Ms. Deveraux and I had earlier about expectations sits hard in the pit of my stomach. On one hand, I was relieved to get confirmation she doesn’t sell herself, only her “time,” but now that I’m sitting here in front of her, I won’t rest until she lets me explore every square inch of not only her perfect body, but her complex mind. I want to know her like no one else has. When our gazes connect again I’m sure mine is full of unmistakable heat. Hers definitely is. She clears her throat and straightens her back. “I think you have the wrong idea about what it is I do.” “I don’t,” I state plainly. “I don’t sleep with my clients, Mr. Mercer.” Oh, but you will. We both know our ingredients are explosive. “Women would pay to have sex with me, not the other way around.” She huffs a laugh as a wry look crosses her face. “Then what is it you need if not a good fuck?” I chuckle and when I lean forward she straightens her spine. I love that even the simplest of movements I make in her direction affect her, just like she does to me. “Is that what I’ll be missing with you? A good fuck?” I won’t be missing a damn thing. She will be mine in every conceivable way. I know it and so does she. “Not just good. Life altering,” she banters smoothly. Now it’s my turn to smile slowly. What I wouldn’t give to throw her up against the wall and show her just what a life-altering fuck really is. For what seems like forever we stare at each other in some sort of weird silent challenge where we’re waiting to see what move the other will make. Shaking myself out of her spell, I pick up the papers and hand them to her. “What’s this?” “Your employment contract.” “All the paperwork is handled through Randi.” “I want a little extra insurance.” She quickly flips through the five-page document before lifting her eyes. “Nondisclosure agreement? This is sounding very fifty shades-ish. And just so you know, if I find any mention of hard limits or safe words, that’s a deal breaker.” I can’t help but laugh loudly. “I’m not kidding,” she says, her voice stern. “Trust me, Goldilocks, if I could have gotten that past your warrior she-devil, I would have.” Her eyes narrow, but I see a little twitch at the corner of her mouth so I forge ahead, making a mental note to invest in handcuffs and a flogger. Or six. “The duration is for approximately the next four months. Ten hours a week, maybe more, maybe less, depending on my schedule. You may be required to travel and you will be available at all times when I need you, day or night. You will attend social events, fundraisers, business dinners, and family functions. You will be photographed and it’s only fair to warn you, you will likely be hounded by the press but I’ll try to shield you as much as possible.” She regards me quietly. I wish I could tell what’s spinning around in that pretty little head of hers. A corner of my mouth tips when she says, “Reelection is just around the corner.” Not a question and I don’t answer, but score another point for her. For not the first time I wonder if this little plan of Noah’s will backfire, taking us all down in a curl of hot flames. She figured out what I was doing within two minutes. Lianna would be a far safer, more believable choice. But there’s also an undeniable, powerfully charged connection between us that will be hard for people to refute. “And what is my role, specifically?” Deciding I don’t care if this entire thing blows up in my face because that means I won’t get what I want—which is her—I stand and step around the table, holding out my hand. When she tentatively sets hers in mine, I help her up and wrap one arm around her waist. Pulling her close, I relish in the hitch of her breath. Cupping her cheek, I savor the baby-fine skin under the pad of my thumb. I take a deep breath, drinking in her delicately floral scent. She’s intoxicating and my head is already spinning. “What are you doing?” she whispers, her small hands going to my chest. Dipping my head, I trail my nose along her jaw, stopping so my lips brush her ear. “Making sure we have chemistry.” She mutters a curse under her breath I know I’m not meant to hear before stuttering, “Wh…why?” Fuck, if she only knew the dirty things running through my head right now. “Because, my wide-eyed little pretty, you’re going to play my new love interest. My girlfriend. My serious girlfriend.” I emphasize the word so she understands what she’s getting herself into. I won’t pay her to be in my bed but that doesn’t mean she won’t end up there anyway. “I…I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” Her breathlessness is testing me and she’s only about half an inch away from finding out exactly how much. Walking into this meeting, I had already agreed to what I thought was a generous offer with her boss, madam, keeper, whatever she’s called. But after the last fifteen minutes, I’ve decided I will pay whatever it takes to have her. To own her. I think I would give away my own soul. Framing her face with both hands now, I lean in until my mouth is a hairsbreadth from hers. Her eyes fall to my lips. I feel her wariness, but I also feel her hunger. She parts her lips and I watch with a deep ache in my groin as her tongue darts out to moisten them in anticipation of my kiss. I restrain from slamming my mouth to hers, taking what I want. What she wants me to take, regardless of how she’s trying to refute me. “But you will. Everyone has a price, Summer. What’s yours?”
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About the Author:
As a USA Today Bestselling author, I write stories that are deeply emotional with flawed characters, because humans ARE flawed and if we read about perfect characters living in their perfect world, first of all, snoozer, but secondly, we never experience the gratification of redemption. Outside of writing, I’m just a regular ol’ Midwest girl who likes Game of Thrones and am obsessed with Modern Family and The Goldbergs. I run, I eat, I run, I eat. It’s a vicous cycle. I love carbs, but there’s love-hate relationship with my ass and thighs. Mostly hate. I like a good cocktail (oh hell…who am I kidding? I love any cocktail). I’m a huge creature of habit, but I’ll tell you I’m flexible. I read every single day and if I don’t get a chance…watch the hell out. My iPad and me: BFFs. I’m direct and I make no apologies for it. I swear too much. I love alternative music and in my next life I want to be a bad-ass female rocker. I hate, hate, hate spiders, telemarketers, liver, acne, winter and loose hairs that fall down my shirt (don’t ask, it’s a thing).
  AUTHOR LINKS
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/KL-Kreig/808927362462053 
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/646655825434751/ 
Website: http://klkreig.com 
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9845429.K_L_Kreig 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/klkreig 
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/klkreig/

Blog Tour: The Knight by Skye Warren

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Grab THE KNIGHT by Skye Warren NOW! “Positively sinful, and outrageously sexy! Emotions run high and readers will be left gasping.” – New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones

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The power of pleasure…
Gabriel Miller took everything from me. My family. My innocence. My home. The only thing I have left is the determination to get back what’s mine. He thinks he’s beaten me. He thinks he’s won. What he doesn’t realize is that every pawn has the chance to become a queen. And the game has only just begun. THE KNIGHT is book two in the Endgame series from New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren about revenge and seduction in the game of love.
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EXCERPT:
“Still giving orders, little virgin? Is that something you’re born with in the St. James family, or did they teach you that along with your ABCs?” Rage tightens a knot in my stomach. “I’m not a virgin.” “No?” he asks, lifting a hand to my face. I stand very still as he captures my chin between his thumb and forefinger, torn between wanting to wrench away and wanting him to kiss me. How can he make me feel alive when I’ve been sleepwalking for months, years? What sick twist of fate let the hands of this man bring me pleasure? “You made sure of that.” I mean the words to come out cold, unhurt. Instead I sound breathless and somehow inviting. The white carpet may as well be streaked with red. We’re both back in his bedroom, both flushed and sated and ripped to shreds from what he’s just done. He lifts my face, almost tender. “I put my cock into your warm little hole. Pushed right through that thin hymen to do it. It felt like fucking heaven to break you open.” I’m a tuning fork in his hands, and the sound I make is pure arousal. “I despise you.” “You were so wet,” he says, almost thoughtful. “But some of it was blood, wasn’t it?” “I’m going to find a way to get my house back.” He bends his head slightly, enough that our lips are an inch away, the words a tickle of breath against my lips. “I got off on the slide of your blood on my cock. I came that way, spilling salt into the fresh open wound.” There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to him, no line I wouldn’t cross in this moment. My anger takes an unholy shape, rearing back with all the fury and fear of a wild horse ready to trample his enemy. “And God help me, I’m going to ruin you. The way you did my father. I’m going to break you.” He nudges my chin higher, exposing the vulnerable line of my throat. His mouth drops to the tender skin, a whisper of a kiss. “Do you want to make me bleed, little virgin?” The violence takes me by surprise. My swing is wild, aimed straight for his face with all my strength. He catches my wrist midmotion, the abrupt stop shooting pain down my arm. We’re frozen that way, him holding me, breathing each other’s air. “Don’t call me that,” I say between clenched teeth. “Little virgin.” “I’m not. You saw the proof of it. You paid a million dollars for it.” “Actually,” he says, voice deceptively mild. “I paid a million dollars to use you for a month. And as that month isn’t over yet, I think I’d like to collect.” Shock courses through me, singeing every angry intention. “No.” “And as for your virginity, there are a hundred ways you haven’t been taken. A thousand ways you haven’t been fucked. A million dollars left to earn.” “That money’s mine. You sent me away.” “And yet,” he says, echoing his earlier words, “here you fucking are. This is what you wanted. This is what you came for. Did you really think you’d see me and walk away without my come inside you?” My gasp sounds virginal even to myself. “Of course I did.” He uses the hold on my wrist to drag me closer, off balance, almost falling into him. His warmth surrounds me, along with a musk my body remembers. Alarm bells ring more than they did this morning. A strange man could hurt me, but Gabriel—he’s worse. My own kryptonite. “Here’s the thing about fucking a virgin,” he whispers, breath a caress on my temple. “You gave me your pretty little hymen, the small spill of blood. The first feel of those walls squeezing my cock. And there’s no way to get it back, not ever. No matter who else you fuck. Even if you settle down with some prep-school fucker and let him climb on top of you every single night, I’ll always be your first. You will always be my little virgin.” The show of possession does something strange to me. It should be offensive. It’s meant to be offensive, but the humiliation turns liquid and hot inside my body. And the worst part is, I can’t even deny the truth. He left an imprint inside me. I can still remember the stretch of him, the burn. The very shape of that heavy thickness I can feel against my stomach now. And anyone who comes after him, they’ll never quite fill the space he carved inside of me. “That’s right,” he murmurs, soothing now that I’ve acquiesced. “I’ve got you.” “No, we can’t—” He releases my wrist only to run a finger along my cheek. “So young. You look so young like this.” “It’s the makeup,” I say with difficulty. And the hair. And the clothes. In a thousand ways I was different before, the society princess. What am I now? Almost homeless. Definitely scared. His eyes gentle, more brown than they’ve been before. “You didn’t think you were getting fucked today. You got dressed and took the bus and came up the elevator having no idea.” “Don’t feel sorry for me.” A slight smile. “Not enough to stop. Take off those clothes. Let’s see what you look like when you’re just a sweet, innocent college girl and not the toy I bought at auction.”
Start the series today!
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BUY NOW: 
❧ Amazon: http://amzn.to/2jPMG2v 
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Blurb:
"Sinfully sexy and darkly beautiful, The Pawn will play games with your heart and leave you craving more!" - Laura Kaye, New York Times bestselling author The price of survival... Gabriel Miller swept into my life like a storm. He tore down my father with cold retribution, leaving him penniless in a hospital bed. I quit my private all-girl's college to take care of the only family I have left. There's one way to save our house, one thing I have left of value. My virginity. A forbidden auction... Gabriel appears at every turn. He seems to take pleasure in watching me fall. Other times he's the only kindness in a brutal underworld. Except he's playing a deeper game than I know. Every move brings us together, every secret rips us apart. And when the final piece is played, only one of us can be left standing. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * THE PAWN is a full-length contemporary novel from New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren about revenge and seduction in the game of love. It's the first book in the brand new ENDGAME series.
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The cover and blurb for THE CASTLE by Skye Warren is here!

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preorder now! 
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Blurb: 
I’m safe in the ivory tower Gabriel Miller made for me. That’s what he says. Enemies lurk outside, waiting to strike. An army of enemies held back by these walls. Except some animal instinct warns me the danger is much closer. It’s already here. Is Gabriel Miller my protector or my enemy? Is this house a castle or a cage? There’s nowhere for me to go, no one left for me to trust. No escape from a past determined to capture its prize.

My Review:
Dear Skye Warren, your words suck me in every time! I go to this far away place where absolutely nothing exists besides your words, and The Knight is the exact same way. Im a rare breed where I love, love, love cliffhangers, so The Pawn. I was like YESSS!! This book isn't a real cliffhanger. So don't go too crazy.

Gabrielle, sigh, Gabrielle. He's that alpha male, you think you can change. You think will be your knight in shining armor....your dead wrong. He's that uber asshole. Avery thinks they live in this fairy tale life for the time being, it isn't until things start to unravel, that she see's the real Gabrielle and the game he is playing isn't what she thought. The pieces unravel, chess is a game, but a game like no other. When she finds out the truth, her world implodes. She doesn't know who to trust or where to go.

Don't fret, we always know those uber assholes usually fall, but will Avery see him fall or will she be gone before she finds out what really is happening around her.

I loved this book, hell this series. As I said before Skye Warren has a way with words. The Knight, is just the same. I can't wait to see what else she has in store!

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About the Author:
Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of contemporary romance such as the Chicago Underground series. Her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, two sweet dogs, and one evil cat.
Contact Skye:

Thursday, January 26, 2017

Release Blitz: Healing the Broken by K. Street




Title: Healing the Broken
Author: K. Street
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 27, 2017



Blurb

Strength is born during the moments that are meant to break us.

Monsters didn’t just exist in nightmares.

They were real; they lived among us. As the sole witness to a brutal murder, Ryann Sinclair knew that better than anyone.

He’d been burned once, and Cashel Donovan swore it was the last time.

Until Ryann Sinclair walked back into his life.

She was fiercely protective of her heart, and he was hell-bent on protecting her.

Never one to back down from a challenge, he was determined to break her.

Just so he could be the one to put her back together.







Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited





Excerpt

Cash’s POV

“Stay.”

It’s uttered so quietly, I assume she’s dreaming. Without turning to look at her, I take another step out of the room.

“Please.”

There is a desperate sound in her tone that seizes my heart and traps the air in my lungs. Turning back, I go to the side of the bed and crouch down, so I’m eye-level with her. Softly, I push the hair off her forehead and hold her gaze. All her defenses are down. If a person’s eyes are windows to their soul, I feel like I’m seeing into the depths of her. Seeing all the broken pieces.

“All right, baby girl, I’ll stay.”

Crystal's Review
What an amazing debut novel full of real emotion with exceptional writing, I read a lot of books, so I am picky when it comes to writing and story line, it has to grab me and pull in me from the start. K Street had me from the first paragraph. Her details and character development are that of a seasoned writer and I would never had guessed this is her first novel had I not been told! I felt such a connection with the characters and she was able to pull so many emotions out of me with her writing, 
The story flowed gracefully at just the right pace to keep my attention and make me not want to put it down! I ignored everyone and everything until I read the entire book in one sitting!

It's a beautiful love story about healing between two people who have reconnected and the struggles faced when you have secrets you aren't ready to share with the one who loves you. From their first meeting I could feel the connection between Ryann and Cash. The book is also full of suspense to keep you guessing and has just the right amount of angst to give you all the feels. Plus there are twists and turns you will not see coming, they had my jaw dropping and it's not often I get surprised by a book anymore and K Street pulled it off which says volumes about her story telling skills!!
A truly phenomenal novel by an amazingly talented writer and I can't wait to see what K Street writes next! 






Author Bio


K. Street has been making up stories since she was old enough to talk and began writing at the tender age of eleven. She resides in central Florida with her husband and daughter. Her affinity for coffee, sweet red wine, dark chocolate and hockey runs deep. When K isn’t working or writing she enjoys reading, cooking, spending time with her family and cheering on her beloved Chicago Blackhawks.



Author Links

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Release Blitz: Shafted by Jordan Marie



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She’s barely legal. He’s more than twice her age.
None of it matters.
He’s about to show her why he’s nicknamed SHAFT.


Shafted is NOW LIVE and ONLY $0.99!

Get your copy at the following retailers:  

**Nook to follow**

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Blurb

She’s barely legal. He’s more than twice her age.

None of it matters.

He’s about to show her why he’s nicknamed SHAFT.


Bree

Until Jax, I’ve never even had an interest in boys.
That’s just the thing though. Jax isn’t a boy.
He’s all man.
First, I gave him my innocence.
Second, I gave him my heart.
But when my family finds out about us…
I just hope I don’t get him killed.


Jax

She’s the granddaughter of a rival club’s President.
She’s barely legal and way too innocent for me.
I’m too old. Too hardened by life, but one taste of her and it’s too late.
I’ve claimed her as my own.
And I’ll die before I let anyone take her away from me.
Unfortunately, it might just come to that.
Bree says we’re soul mates.
Fated for each other.
When I’m staring down the barrel of a gun about to lose everything.
It seems like life fate might have given me the shaft.

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Chapter One

Shaft
“Fuck man,” I groan, all but falling down in the chair.
“Rough day old man?”  Briar asks, and I flip him off.  Bastard has a right to laugh. He and his old lady, Stephanie conveniently picked today to spend at Cumberland Falls.  Conveniently, because today is the day the rest of the brothers and myself worked like fucking dogs, fixing up the outside of the club for BB and Diego’s birthdays. BB is a nickname for Torch and Katie’s little boy, and Diego is the president, Skull and his old lady Beth’s son. The two women are sisters and somehow managed to have kids on the exact same day just minutes apart. The Pres is going all out to make sure there’s a huge celebration for the boys’ second birthday.
It sure as hell don’t feel like they should be two already. Time flies fast, and damn if my body ain’t living proof of that today. I feel old all the way down to my bones. I’ve been a sworn in member of the Devil’s Blaze for the last two years, getting the nod from the other members during all that shit with Beth, Katie and the fucking Donahues.
It’s what I wanted, what I worked for, not even minding that I was serving as a pledge with men ten or more years younger than me.  Now at forty, I’m probably one of the oldest members. It didn’t used to bother me, but lately I’m feeling like I missed out on something. Especially when men my age, or close to it have all settled down with old ladies, and here I am alone.
It’s not like I haven’t had relationships, I have. It’s just none of them are even slightly memorable. More often than not, I wish to hell I could forget them. I look through the room and it’s mostly quiet. The new prospects are partying with a few of the club girls.  Even that—easy pussy, doesn’t interest me tonight and that is just fucking depressing. The club needs new women or something.  Hell, maybe I need to get off my ass and get out and find a woman, a woman of my own. That just seems like too much fucking effort right now. Especially when I’ve been breaking up cement and shit all day to make way for the new patio that’s being poured tomorrow. My back hurts like a motherfucker.
“I think I’m crashing for the night brother,” I tell Briar, taking the last swig of my beer.
Damn, you are getting old,” he says with a chuckle as he shakes his head.
“Nothing here seems to be holding my interest tonight. Club needs some new talent.”
“You need to settle down brother. Find you a good woman like my Steph,” he boasts.
“I think all the good ones are probably gone.”
“Nah, they’re still out there. Just hard to find,” Briar says.
I look around the room one last time. Just as I’m about to write the night off as a loss, she walks in.
“Who’s that?”
He looks around the room. “Who?”
“The chick that just walked through the door,” I tell him without taking my eyes off her. She’s fucking beautiful, and I don’t mean that in a normal way. Hell no, this chick could have just walked off the pages of a magazine. She’s got hair that you can’t really call blonde. It’s like multiple colors, blonde on top then slowly shifting to darker locks on the bottom, and every now and then there’s a strand of almost white. It’s cut so it curves toward a perfect face reaching below her shoulders.  She’s got red lips that could make any man beg—including me. She’s wearing a black jacket, not leather, it’s more polished, expensive, though the look is similar.  Under that she has a white shirt that clings to tight, perky breasts that are easily a ‘C’ cup. Perfect size to fill my large hands. Tight blue jean shorts that cling to her curvy ass and show off long fucking legs, that’d I’d give my eye teeth to feel wrapped around me. She’s wearing flip flops and fuck, even her toes are sexy, painted clear with bright white tips. There’s a silver ring around one of her toes and even that looks sexy. She looks around like she’s searching for someone.  Me baby. You’re definitely searching for me.  
Almost as if she can hear me, she looks at me. Those sweet red lips give into a smile, and I need her closer, so I can tell exactly what color those eyes are. I can feel my dick hardening. I reach down under the table to adjust him. I’ll be letting him play tonight, that’s for damn sure. I stare straight at the woman of my dreams. Is it coincidence that her tongue comes out to brush against her top lip, or is she trying to drive me in- fucking –sane?
“Down boy.” Briar puts his hand on my chest as if to hold me back. “That’s not for you.”
“Why the fuck not?” I shove his hand away. “She been claimed by one of the other brothers?” Please say no. Briar laughs, and as much as I hate it, I pull my eyes away from my dream woman and look at him. “What the fuck do you find so funny?”
“The fact that you’re setting yourself up for a whole hell of a lot of trouble.”
“Quit talking in circles, Briar. I got more important shit to do.” Like her.
“Not with her you don’t.”
“You’re starting to piss me off man.”
“That girl is off limits.” His tone is hard and matter of fact.
“Says who?”
His eyes harden. “Her family.”
“Give me a break. Do I look like I give a fuck?” What the fuck has he been moking?
“You might on this one.”
“I doubt it.”
“It’s your funeral.”
Standing up, I ignore the son of a bitch. My dick is so hard I could lay fucking bricks. I’ve got a much softer place in mind for him though.
“Something else might talk you out of it though.”
“I doubt it,” I repeat, walking toward my future.   
“She’s jailbait,” he calls out after me.
Motherfucker.  I stop mid-step, and I swear my dick would cry if he could.


Meet Jordan
I'm just a girl standing in front of you and asking you to love her.
heh (I might watch too many Rom Com's)

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