Title: Finding North
Expected Release Date: December 26, 2015
Blurb
Red Maine’s blue-collared bad boy, North Underwood, has a dirty little secret—Will Tanner.
Friends since kindergarten, North had been the one to jump first, and his fall into Will’s bed ten years ago had been no exception. Will and North had been inseparable, but things change, people grow apart, and even a blazing flame can dwindle to a dying ember over time. The more things change the more they stay the same. After a run in with a bottle of Bundy rum, Will and North find themselves in a compromising and all too familiar position. Blurred lines, bad decisions, and one wrong foot after another lead these two down a spiral of sarcasm, secrets, and sex, but when North’s hetero status is called into question he can’t figure up from down. And despite Will telling himself he wouldn’t fall again, he’s head over heels and wandering without a compass. Love is love. Love is truth. Love … shouldn’t be this damn hard to figure out.
Author Bio
Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA TODAY and international bestselling author of the Sugartown, Savage Saints, and Taint series.
Her dark romance, KICK (Savage Saints MC #1), won Best Dark Romance Read in the Reader’s Choice Awards at RWDU 2015. A tattoo enthusiast, hardcore MAC addict and zombie fangirl, Carmen lives on the sunny north coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she spends her time indoors wrangling her two wildling children, a dog named Pikelet, and her very own man-child. A romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture? Published titles to date: Welcome to Sugartown (Sugartown Series #1) Enjoy Your Stay (Sugartown Series #2) Greetings from Sugartown (Sugartown Series #3) Now Leaving Sugartown (Sugartown Series #4) REVELRY (Taint #1) KICK (Savage Saints MC #1) TANK (Savage Saints MC #2)
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Chloe Colter is finally able to fulfill her dream of getting married after over a decade of school to become an equine vet. But her dreams of a perfect life are shattered when her fiancé becomes abusive, forcing her to finally break away from a destructive relationship.
Life has always been simple for Gabe Walker…until the moment he kisses Chloe Colter at a New Year’s Eve party. He wants her, and he’s used to getting what he wants. Can he convince Chloe to accept a job at his horse ranch so he can see her every day and slowly watch her passion emerge as she learns to trust a man again? The fire between Gabe and Chloe burns hot, but can Chloe finally let go of her horrifying life before Gabe and give him a chance?, Is she strong enough to reach out and take a man who wants her, doesn’t want to change her, and who cares about her exactly as she is? or will the emotional turmoil of how Gabe makes her feel make it even harder for her to heal, and force her to walk away? Not intended for readers under 18 years of age. Purchase Links Amazon http://amzn.to/1AXJ0Ju Amazon UK http://amzn.to/1FBvUWX Amazon CA http://amzn.to/1NByHEW iTunes http://apple.co/1wtKoIw Google Play http://bit.ly/1C7sAW4 B&N
J.S. Scott is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of steamy romance. She's an avid reader of all types of books and literature. Writing what she loves to read, J.S. Scott writes both contemporary steamy romance stories and paranormal romance erotics. They almost always feature an Alpha Male and have a happily ever after because she just can't seem to write them any other way!
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☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉☆ #BlogTour! #Reviewed #Excerpt ☆☆҉҉‿➹⁀☆҉ Reaper’s Fall is the newest standalone in the Reaper's MC Series. Painter & Melanie's story! Available at the following retailers: Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1DsDyRt Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1yYt1Rn Nook: http://tinyurl.com/pljucpa iBooks: http://tinyurl.com/pwfxzyj Blurb The New York Times bestselling author of Reaper’s Stand is back in her “uber-alpha rough world of MCs”* as one woman’s future is rocked by the man whose hardcore past could destroy her… He never meant to hurt her. Levi “Painter” Brooks was nothing before he joined the Reapers motorcycle club. The day he patched in, they became his brothers and his life. All they asked in return was a strong arm and unconditional loyalty—a loyalty that’s tested when he’s caught and sentenced to prison for a crime committed on their behalf. Melanie Tucker may have had a rough start, but along the way she’s learned to fight for her future. She’s escaped from hell and started a new life, yet every night she dreams of a biker whose touch she can’t forget. It all started out so innocently—just a series of letters to a lonely man in prison. Friendly. Harmless. Safe. Now Painter Brooks is coming home… and Melanie’s about to learn that there’s no room for innocence in the Reapers MC. Author Bio Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho. Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads http://joannawylde.net/ https://www.facebook.com/joannawyldebooks https://mobile.twitter.com/joannawylde https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/223343.Joanna_Wylde GIVEAWAY $50 Amazon Gift Card Share link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/MDk5NjRmMDM5ZDM4YTBjYWM0YzAyYzM0NGI2ODRhOjc2MA==/? THANK YOU! Dirty Ink Book One in the Dirty Love Series Release Date: December 2, 2015 Cover Photo by Darren Birks https://www.facebook.com/darrenbirksphotography?fref=ts Front Cover Model: Khandace Charest Cover Design: KLa Boutique https://www.facebook.com/pages/KLa-Boutique-Swag/908193265872628 Synopsis: **Warning** Suggested for 18 and over. Contains BDSM and explicit sex scenes. May also contain triggers. Brielle Tyler is a twenty-five year old college student, trying to find her place in the world. Hudson Knox is a thirty year old tattoo artist who has been building up his tattoo shop, Dirty Ink. Brielle's long term boyfriend breaks up with her and she finds herself going to a tattoo shop to break free of her good girl shell. Once Hudson inks Brielle's skin in his shop, he can't stop thinking about the fiery raven haired beauty. A chance encounter a week later, throws Hudson and Brielle together for the ride of their lives. Add it to your TBR on GoodReads! First ride is now available! Grab your copy today!*** This book is intended for those 18 years or older due to strong, mature, sexual content that is dark at times. *** "Since when are bikers the good guys?... They're filthy as SIN." Dawson McCade is used to having to fight for everything. He fought hard for his position as the President of one of the most ruthless, bad-ass, outlaw motorcycle clubs... the Riverdale chapter of the SLAYERS, MC. He's prepared to fight with everything he has against the newest threat to his organization... the Conquistadors drug cartel as it begins to move in on his club's territory. One thing he's not used to fighting, though, is against himself. Ever since the moment he first laid eyes on the innocent, angelic, Molly Donovan, his world's been thrown upside down. He's a killer, an animal, with dark demons buried deep. Demons that he's used to help fuel the drive that's gotten him to where he is in life. He's not looking for redemption, he's not looking for temptation... hell, he IS the temptation. Molly, his "angel", brings a whole new threat to Dawson's life. One that can't be fought on the outside like everything else he's used to. She's going to cause a war within him, one that's more dangerous and terrifying to him than the bullets that the Conquistadors are sending his way. The Slayers MC are soldiers, fighters. Dawson's going to need every single bit of those things to lead both his club and his heart to victory. *This is a BRAND NEW series by Tara Oakes, authoress of the Kingsmen MC series. Although the two series will have slight overlap, this series is fully written to be read as a complete standalone from the Kingsmen. For those of you that have already fallen in love will Tara's sexy bikers, fear not... you're about to get a whole new group of alpha book-boyfriends to add to your collection. You can add First Ride on Goodreads here:https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26094430-first-ride?from_search=true&search_version=service Make sure to buy your copy today!http://www.amazon.com/First-Ride-Slayers-MC-Book-ebook/dp/B013R6F84Q/ref=sr_1_12?ie=UTF8&qid=1445210244&sr=8-12&keywords=tara+oakesTeasers
More About Tara Oakes
Tara is a thirty something newbie author from Long Island, New York. She's a voracious reader, a passionate writer and obsessive junk T.V. aficionado. When she's not doing one of those three things she is attempting to garden, hanging with her hubby or partaking in some retail therapy. She enjoys connecting with her readers and is having a blast entering into this new world of publishing. Her series’ include the Kingsmen MC Series, The Chianti Kisses Series, The Badge Boys Series and the newly begun Slayers MC Series!
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My Review
I had the pleasure of reading this book for my blog Blitz and Boy —what a first book to this series. I give this book a Kick@ss 5 Stars! Your taken in by the life of innocence with Molly aka Angel, she's a girl that takes what life has thrown at her and All that weight is just put on her young shoulders. She's been pushed into motherhood by her sister who's a junkie and Also helps her mother with her illness it's all go but when she try's to dance at a club to help raise money and can't that's the day her world —well her whole purpose as sole keeper changes. Dawson is your pigheaded, stubborn Alpha male who gets what he wants and takes it with no regrets, He runs a well organised MC and when he sees this innocent woman struggling he just has that big bear heart to help. I like all the characters of this book and there's so many routes for more books as we have small basic knowledge of some of the characters and I will be eager to get my hands on them. Nothing's all roses in the world of bikers but this book is all action, With a nice kick of HOT ( Did I say Hot sizzling kinky) action in between. It will have you laughing and wanting to shake Angel at times but overall a good read. I did want a bit more cattiness from the dancer with Angel so I could see her in full swing but it was nice to have full action based on the mc's business and not just getting laid around a clubhouse and just partying. I can't wait for the next one TARA I need it like yesterday! I highly recommend this book and your want the next just like me. Excerpt #2 “You’re not going back to the party.” She cocked her head, and I saw the confusion in her alcohol- glazed eyes as she wrinkled her nose at me. All cute, like a rabbit. “You look like a bunny.” “You look like an ax murder,” she said, frowning. “And I thought London was looking for me. Aren’t we going the wrong way?” “I lied. I do that a lot,” I told her, staring at her lips. I reached out, catching her chin in my hand, running my thumb across her lips. Our eyes locked, and I don’t know if her pulse started to rise but mine sure as fuck did. What the hell had I been thinking, writing to this girl? She was so pretty and perfect and had this amazing, magical life just waiting for her and all I could think about was dragging her down into the dirt and shoving my cock into every hole she had. She’d scream while I did it, too, the same sweet screams that played in my head every night while I jacked off. I hated myself. “Why did you lie?” she asked, her voice a whisper. “To get you away from Taz. It’s not safe with him.” Mel’s forehead creased in confusion, her brain moving so slowly I could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes. She might be smart as fuck most of the time, but she’d transitioned to drunker than fuck tonight. Kit. Kit and Em. They’d done this to her. I leaned in closer, catching her scent. For an instant I swayed, so tempted . . . “They told me all about you,” she whispered. “Who?” “The other girls. Kit, Em. Jessica. I know how you operate,” she continued. One of her hands rose, touching my chest. Fire burst through me, because if I’d wanted her before I was desperate for her now. She was so soft, so sweet . . . so perfect. Then her words sank in. “What did you just say?” “They told me all about you,” she said, eyes dropping to stare at my lips. “They told me you have a Madonna-whore complex.” I froze. “A what?” “A Madonna-whore complex,” she repeated, her voice earnest. “You like to screw dirty girls and you put clean girls on pedestals, where they can stay perfect and pure. That’s pretty messed up, Painter. There’s no such thing as Madonnas and whores. We’re all just people.” The words stunned me. What the hell was she talking about? Just because I didn’t want her dragged down in the drama and bullshit of this life didn’t mean I had some sort of fucking complex. And who the hell were the Hayes sisters to have an opinion? I couldn’t tell what pissed me off more—the fact that they’d talked to Mel about me or that they hadn’t done a better job of scaring her off. She wasn’t supposed to be here. “Kit and Em are crazy, and that friend of yours—Jessica? She’s like a car crash. You don’t belong here, Mel.” “And where do I belong?” “With some nice kid who’ll treat you like a queen and work his ass off to give you everything perfect for the rest of your life.” The words were practically a growl. Her eyes widened. “What if I don’t want perfect?” “Too fucking bad, because that’s what you’re getting.” Reaper’s Fall is the newest standalone in the Reaper's MC Series. Painter & Melanie's story will be available on November 10th and is currently up for Pre-order! Available at the following retailers: Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1DsDyRt Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1yYt1Rn Nook: http://tinyurl.com/pljucpa iBooks: http://tinyurl.com/pwfxzyj Blurb The New York Times bestselling author of Reaper’s Stand is back in her “uber-alpha rough world of MCs”* as one woman’s future is rocked by the man whose hardcore past could destroy her… He never meant to hurt her. Levi “Painter” Brooks was nothing before he joined the Reapers motorcycle club. The day he patched in, they became his brothers and his life. All they asked in return was a strong arm and unconditional loyalty—a loyalty that’s tested when he’s caught and sentenced to prison for a crime committed on their behalf. Melanie Tucker may have had a rough start, but along the way she’s learned to fight for her future. She’s escaped from hell and started a new life, yet every night she dreams of a biker whose touch she can’t forget. It all started out so innocently—just a series of letters to a lonely man in prison. Friendly. Harmless. Safe. Now Painter Brooks is coming home… and Melanie’s about to learn that there’s no room for innocence in the Reapers MC. Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho. Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads THANK YOU!
Title: Devil Smoke
Series: Butcher Boys #5
Author: Max Henry
Genre: Suspense/Contemporary
Release Date: November 3, 2015
Blurb
“Value the people who sacrifice their something for you ... because maybe that something was their everything.”
- Unknown The brief was simple—infiltrate our rival’s crew and steal the info we needed. Easy, right? I thought so, too, until I met Ryan. A woman with the ability to change my view on everything: who I was, who I am now, and what I want to be remembered for when the reaper comes to collect. I’m a killer, a scapegoat for hire—the man who’ll take the fall for your immoral operation if you offer me the right price. I’ve made enemies along the way, and I’m forever watching my back. In a world as corrupt as mine, love and relationships remain an unobtainable target. So I act the fool, parade as the playboy, but all I really want is to belong to somebody. She made me think it could be her, that a woman so haunted by her past might actually need a man like me—somebody who can kill with his bare hands, a man who would sacrifice it all to see those he loved kept safe. That was, until she turned the table and risked it all to help me.
When best-laid plans fall apart, and we’re both put to the test, will love or loyalty prevail?
FREE
Author Bio
Originally born and bred in Canterbury, New Zealand, Max now resides with her family in beautiful and sunny Queensland, Australia. Life with two young children can be hectic at times, and although she may not write as often as she would like, Max wouldn't change a thing. In her down time, Max can be found at her local gym, brain-storming through a session with the weights. Or, she may be out bumping, and jostling her way along a dirt track with the family in hubby's 4WD.
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Meet Kayden in Book one in the CARELESS WHISPERS series. This is a standalone spin-off of the INSIDE OUT series (soon to be a TV show) that follows Ella Ferguson, Sara McMillan's best friend. #SayYesToKayden Now available for Pre-order! Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1MzkBpQ Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1VQue7X Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1NIucIj iBooks: http://apple.co/1Rk8Q4Q Blurb From New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones, the first book in the CARELESS WHISPERS series. Please note: This is the standalone spinoff of the INSIDE OUT series. New readers can enjoy this without reading INSIDE OUT but those who love INSIDE OUT will FINALLY find out what happened to Ella! Ella Ferguson awakes alone in Italy, unsure of who she is, and a gorgeous man has claimed her as his own. He's tall, dark, and sexy, with money and power, the kind of man who makes a girl want to be possessed. And he does possess her, whispering wicked wonderful promises to her, stealing her trust and her heart. Soon though, the past finds her, yanking her from a cocoon of passion and safety. Everything is not how it seems. The truth will shatter her world, but it can set her free, if it doesn't destroy her first. Read Chapter one on Lisa’s website here: http://lisareneejones.com/books/denial/#read-an-excerpt Chapter Two I blink, and once again I’m staring into pale blue eyes.“Kayden?” His lips curve, and those eyes of his, which have a way of stealing right into the emptiness of my mind, light with satisfaction. “You remember me. Progress. The last two times that you woke up, you didn’t know my name.” “What last two times?” I try to focus, to remember anything but him. “The MRI machine—” “You had a panic attack inside it, and they had to sedate you.” My brow furrows, and I flash back to the violin playing in my ears. “No. I was fi ne, just cold and sick to my stomach.” “Until you weren’t fi ne anymore,” he says, running his hand over the dark shadow on his jaw that I don’t remember being there before. A bad feeling comes over me. “How much time has passed?” He glances at his watch again, and I’m relieved to remember it’s a Cartier, relieved by all things familiar. That is until he announces, “Thirty-six hours.” Losing that much time is like a blow; my throat is suddenly so dry it’s sandpaper. “I need water.” He stands and finds the pitcher, filling a cup for me. I try to sit, and he quickly abandons his efforts, gently shackling my arm, his touch electric, familiar in a way that no longer surprises me but still confuses me. “Let me lift the bed,” he offers, and I nod, allowing him to help me, the way I have so many times before, it seems, when really it hasn’t been that often at all. The bed rises, and I settle against it while he reaches for the cup. He offers it to me, and this time when I accept it, and our hands and gazes collide, I don’t look away. I can’t look away. “Déjà vu,” I whisper, feeling the sensation clear to my soul. “Yes,” he agrees. “Déjà vu.” While I could dismiss it as just that, I have this sense that there’s more to this moment than a simple repeat action. I down the contents of the cup, drinking quickly before he can stop me, and when I’m done, he takes the cup from me. “More?” “No, thank you.” I glance down, unnerved to realize my IV is gone. “It’s hard to comprehend that I woke up twice and don’t remember.” “You not only woke up—the last time you were awake, you ate some soup and had a nurse help you shower.” “Shower? Okay, I’m even more freaked out now. How can I not remember that? How bad is my head injury?” “Your tests were all normal aside from the concussion, which is healing. Your back should be healing as well.” I flex my shoulders and nod. “It feels better, and my head doesn’t hurt the way it did. But I’m not encouraged that I can’t remember the last two times I woke up.” “It’s the drugs they gave you after you had the panic attack.” “How do you know?” “Because the second time you woke up and didn’t remember the first time, I was worried and asked.” “Could my entire memory loss be the drugs?” I ask, hopefully. His lips tighten. “No. Sorry. I asked the same as well.” “Of course it’s not the drugs,” I say grimly. “That would be too easy a solution. At least I showered, I guess.” “As did I,” he says. “I was afraid they’d kick me out if I didn’t.” It’s then that I notice he’s now in a light blue T-shirt and faded jeans, which indicates, I assume, that he went home, changed, and made the decision to return here to me. “It’s been thirty-six hours since my test, and at least another eight before that, and you’re still here.” “Yes. I’m still here.” Reality hits me with gut-wrenching clarity. “No one camelooking for me.” He gives a grim shake of his head. “No.” I inhale and then let the breath out, devastated by this news. Kayden is here out of obligation or some sense of responsibility.Whatever the case, he won’t admit it, and I’m not going to pathetically drive home the topic. I need out of this place, and so does he. “Do you know when the doctor will be back around?” I ask. “Not until tomorrow.” “I can’t wait until tomorrow; I need to talk to him now,” I insist. “Please call him.” I realize I’ve grabbed his arm and I’msqueezing. “I’m sorry.” I jerk my hand back, and it’s trembling.I’m trembling. All over. “I just need them to fix me. They . . .they have to make me remember who I am.” “The doctors keep saying that you will,” he assures me, reaching to the table beside the bed and presenting me with a leather book. “What is that?” “A journal. The staff psychologist left this for you. She wants you to write down your thoughts and dreams. Apparently there’s reason to believe it will help you regain your memories sooner.” In disbelief, I ask, “That’s my medical treatment? A journal?” I take it from him, my brow furrowing with a memory that’s here and then gone, leaving me frustrated and ready to throw the darn thing. “How is this supposed to help me?” “It’s one part of a treatment plan they intend to present to you on Monday.” I set the journal on the bed, rejecting it along with the “treatment plan.” “They seem to believe that your brain is suppressing memories to protect you from some sort of trauma.” “Leaving me homeless and without a name?” I ask. “That’s a horrible way to protect myself. And I don’t even have memories to write in it.” He shifts on the bed, his hand settling on my leg. It’s a strong hand, the hand of a man who knows what he wants and goes after it, while I know nothing at all. “Maybe if we talk, it’ll help.” “That’s no different than writing in the journal. I can’t talk about what I don’t remember.” “My memories might stir yours.” I sigh. “Okay. But it would be so much easier if there was a pill for this kind of thing.” His lips hint at a smile. “Most of us would agree with that at some point in our lives. Why don’t we talk about the night you were mugged?” “That’s exactly why I’m here,” says an unfamiliar male voice. My attention shifts to the doorway, where a man in his mid-thirties leans on the doorjamb, his suit and dark brown hair a bit rumpled and his tie slightly off center. “What the hell are you doing here, Gallo?” Kayden demands, shoving off the bed to face him. “My job,” the man states, striding toward us. While his features are too hard and the lines of his face too sharp to be called good-looking, there is something about him that refuses to be ignored, and he stands at the end of my bed, fixing me in a steely gray stare. “I’m Detective Gallo. I hear you were mugged, and I want to ask you a few questions.” “You don’t handle muggings,” Kayden points out. “I do when your name’s on the report,” the detective says shortly. It’s pretty clear these two don’t just know each other;they don’t like each other. “Of course,” Kayden replies, sounding amused. “Because I’ve broken so many laws.” The detective is not amused. “Just because you haven’t been caught doesn’t make you innocent.” He gives me a pointed look. “I’m guessing you aren’t Maggie.” I blanch. “What? I . . . no. Or . . .” I look to Kayden for help. “What is he talking about?” “He’s being a smart-ass,” Kayden states. “I registered you under that name and told them you were my sister.” My brow furrows. “What? Why?” The detective takes it upon himself to answer. “Because it gave him access to you.” “Exactly,” Kayden confirms, offering no apology or explanation. He doesn’t need to, and yet I want more. More what, though? I don’t know. Just . . . more. “At least he put you up in the ritzy end of the hospital,” the detective points out, demanding the attention again, and making a big show of glancing around the room. And as obviouslyintended, I follow his lead, and for the first time since I’ve been lucid, I look at it, as well. Really look at it—and realize it’s larger than expected, with a sitting area to the left and a mini kitchen. I look at Kayden in shock. “How much is this costing? I don’t even know if I have a bank account, let alone money to pay for this!” “Don’t worry about money. I have this,” he says softly. “You mean you’re paying my bills. Kayden, I can’t let you do that. I don’t know if I can pay you back.” “Let him pay,” the detective interjects. “He’s got a boatload of cash. But I do have to say, his registering you under a fake name, on top of the upgraded security in this wing of thebuilding, does make it damn hard for anyone looking for you to find you.” “The staff know to direct any inquiries that might fit your description to me,” Kayden assures me, flicking the detective an irritated look. “Obviously—since you found her.” “I found you, not her.” He looks at me again. “And I’d ask for your real name to connect a few dots, but I understand that you don’t remember it.” “That’s right,” I confirm, resisting the urge to fidget, like I have something to hide, when I don’t. Do I? “What do you remember?” he asks. “Nothing before the moment I woke up here.” He arches a brow. “Nothing?” “Nothing.” “Not even the actual attack?” I shake my head. “I see,” he says, stroking his clean-shaven jaw. “I was hoping the actual attack wasn’t a part of your memory loss.” “I’m completely blank, Detective, and it’s really quite terrifying to think about being in that alleyway, passed out and alone. I’m thankful Kayden was there to get me help.” “Right.” His hand leaves his face, and he grips the railing at the foot of the bed. “That was lucky.” His gaze lands on Kayden. “Not often a real hero comes along.” “If you have something to say to me, Gallo,” Kayden says calmly, “then say it and let’s move on.” The detective’s steely eyes fix on Kayden, and the hate radiating off him is so fierce. I’m clearly in the center of something very personal, and very bitter. “Detective—” I say, intending to ask for the help he swears he’s here to give me. “You and I need to chat for a few moments alone,” he says, his hard stare returning to me. “Let’s cut to the chase, Gallo,” Kayden interjects. “You’re here to badger me by badgering her, and I’m not going to let that happen. Especially while she’s fragile.” “I’m not fragile,” I insist. “I can assure you,” the detective replies, ignoring me, “this is about her, not you.” “If ‘her’ is me,” I say, certain this one-on-one is going to happen, “I’ll talk with you alone.” I glance at Kayden. “I get that there are two agendas here. I can handle it. I just need to solve the mystery of who I am.” The detective’s approving gaze falls on me. “At least two of us are on the same page.” Kayden’s lips thin, but he accepts my answer. “I’ll be rightoutside the door if you need me.” I give him a nod, and he meets the detective’s stare, the two of them exchanging what I’m pretty sure are some heated silent words, before he strides out of the room. Detective Gallo claims the stool Kayden favors and scootscloser to me. “It really was lucky that he just happened to be at the right place, at the right time, to rescue you.” His tone says he doesn’t think it was a matter of luck at all. “And talk about dedication to a stranger. Forty-eight hours later, he’s not only still here, he’s paying your bills.” Already he’s attacking Kayden, but I’m not foolish enough not to find out why. “What are you getting at?” “That maybe, just maybe, he knew you before he found you.” He holds up a finger. “And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t in the right place at the right time by chance.” My mind flickers with an image of Kayden’s hand on my back, and I can almost feel the familiar sensation of his touch spread from my shoulders down my spine. “He says I didn’t know him.” “Do you believe him?” “You know I have no memory.” “You have instincts.” “Which could suck, for all I know.” He rests his arms on the railing, the position eating away much of the space between us. “I’m trying to help you—you know that, right?” “You are here for him, not me.” “I’m here because of him, but for you.” “I don’t know what that means,” I say, “and I honestly don’t care. I have to find out who I am, before I’m discharged and on the street.” “You won’t end up on the streets. There are programs—” “So that’s the help you’re giving me?” I interrupt. “You’ll stick me in some government program and I’ll cease to exist before I landed in this hospital room?” His lips tighten and he leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I ran a general check on all missing persons reports,including anyone traveling from outside the country.” “And?” I ask, holding my breath, almost as afraid to hear the answer as I am desperate for it. “At this point there are no active reports that match your description locally.” “What about internationally?” “Or for anyone traveling by way of a passport,” he adds. I’m shell-shocked, trying to figure out what this means for me. “However,” he adds, “there tends to be a slight delay in reports filed for a missing person who lives or travels alone.” “Alone.” The word carves a hole in my soul, taunting me with the idea that no one’s looking for me because no one cares about me. “No,” I say, rejecting that idea. “I might not know who I am, but I know I wouldn’t live here without learning the language, which means that I’m visiting. And I wouldn’t visit a foreign country alone.” “And as you said, your instincts might suck.” Infuriated at his lack of help, I say, “I don’t need instincts to know that I can’t wait for a missing persons report that might not come, to deal with my situation.” “And you don’t have to. If you are indeed an American citizen—” “I am. I know I am.” “Well then,” he says, “you’d be traveling with a passport, and there will be fingerprints on file.” A ray of hope replaces my anger. “You mean we can crosscheck my records?” “Exactly. I’ll pick up a fingerprint kit, and we’ll run them through the database. If we get a hit, then we’ll know yourname, home country, and even your parents’ names.” “Why wouldn’t we get a match?” “There are any number of reasons,” he says, “but let’s cross that bridge if we come to it.” “No. No, I want to know the reasons.” “It’s really—” “I want to know.” He sighs. “You could have crossed the border illegally.” “Why would I do that?” “There’s a black market for American women in the sex trade. Normally they’re drugged, and you have no marks on your arms. But—” “Enough,” I say, not needing anything else to freak me out. “I get the point: there are reasons. What happens next?” “I’ll bring in a fingerprint kit.” He glances at his watch. “It’s nearly five now, and visiting hours end at eight. So most likely I’ll have to bring it tomorrow. In the meantime, I’d like to get a photo that I can show around the neighborhood where we found you. Maybe someone knows you.” A photo—good God, I don’t even know what I look like! “I . . . Yes. Okay.” He pulls out his phone. “I’ll take a few now, if that works for you?” “Of course.” I’ve barely issued the approval before he snaps a few shots and is inspecting them. “Looks good,” he says. “Do you want to approve it?” He offers me the phone and I hold up a hand again. “No,” I say quickly, irrationally panicked at the idea of seeing myself,especially when seeing myself, finding me, is exactly what I’mafter. “I really don’t want to know how I must look right now.” “Far better than you might think,” he says, a hint of warmth in his tone as he slips his phone back in his jacket and stands, his hands settling on the railing as he stares down at me. “There’s a reason he told them you’re his sister.” “What do you mean? You said he did that to be able to be in my room with me.” “A decision he made the moment he brought you to the hospital. That doesn’t add up to being a stranger to me.” “Why can’t he simply be a good guy helping someone in need?” “Because this is Kayden Wilkens we’re talking about, and Kayden Wilkens doesn’t do anything, including you, without an agenda.” He’s looking at the doorway now. My gaze follows his, my lips parting with the impact of finding Kayden standing there. If Detective Gallo demands attention, Kayden just plain claims it. He is power, control, beauty, and, right now, anger. The air crackles with its intensity, and when his piercing blue eyes shift from Gallo to me, I have a sense of a wolf who doesn’t bother with sheep’s clothing, with his sights set on me. And I’m certain that it’s not protectiveness or obligation I see in his face. This time, it’s one hundred percent possession. For More information on The Inside Out series page including: buy links, and excerpts for the previous two and also upcoming releases. Visit Lisa’s website here: http://lisareneejones.com/connected-books/inside-out-series/ About the Author: New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT SERIES, and is now in development by Suzanne Todd (Alice in Wonderland) for cable TV. In addition, her Tall, Dark and Deadly series and The Secret Life of Amy Bensen series, both spent several months on a combination of the NY Times and USA Today lists. Watch the video on casting for the INSIDE TV Show HERE Since beginning her publishing career in 2007, Lisa has published more than 40 books translated around the world. Booklist says that Jones suspense truly sizzles with an energy similar to FBI tales with a paranormal twist by Julie Garwood or Suzanne Brockmann. Prior to publishing, Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by Dallas Women Magazine. In 1998 LRJ was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine. Lisa loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at on her website and she is active on twitter and facebook daily. STALK HER: Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads GIVEAWAY Pre-order Denial and enter to win a CARELESS WHISPERS mug and you will also receive as bonus, exclusive scenes that re-visit Sara and Chris from INSIDE OUT and an ALSO an early look at Lisa's new series DIRTY MONEY.
You can find the form here - http://lisareneejones.com/pre-order-promotion-for-denial/ THANK YOU!
SCATTERED ASHES by Annie Anderson
Genre: Paranormal Romance
- SYNOPSIS -
Aurelia Constantine is having a rough century.
Plagued by visions of murder, death and destruction, she has resigned herself to the nightmare her life has become. When an enemy from her past comes to her rescue, she must let go of old wounds and heal the breach so she may survive the evil poisoning her mind.
Rhys Stevens is guilty.
Murder. Betrayal. Treason. Take your pick; he’s guilty of them all. On the path of redemption, he must beg for forgiveness from the one person he fought to save - the woman he has always loved.
Thrown together in the trenches of war, they must work as a team to stop a monstrous puppet master from pulling their strings.
Ashes, ashes. We all fall down.
Get ready to burn.
- ADD TO GOODREADS -
- PURCHASE - AMAZON: http://amzn.to/1RTl6cU PAPAERBACK: http://amzn.to/1N13ufw iTUNES: http://apple.co/1PP7TTm KOBO: http://bit.ly/1LPqY2P B&N: http://bit.ly/1PLWTHs
- EXCERPT -
The identity I probably won’t need just yet, but I do need the set of clothes. My suit jacket was lost to some poor male patron with a gut shot, and my pants and shirt are ruined by some lady’s blood and the remnants of what I did to Thad during his interrogation. I feel guilty for not using the Morganite knife and killing him for real since I know he’ll heal in the next couple of days. My only solace is that it will take a few days to regrow his whole fucking head. Dick. I knew I shouldn’t have gone to my stupid exhibit. I swear it’s the last time I let Evan talk me into anything. I mean it this time. Rhys has been quiet most of the drive, and it’s a blessing because I have no idea what to say to him. But it’s a curse as well due to the barbed guilt running through my veins. I’ve spent little time with him that hasn’t included me trying to rip him limb from limb, so a conversation might be impossible. I’m also a little disturbed having him so close hasn’t been the hardship I thought it would be. He’s been quiet, considerate, and he pumped the gas when we stopped because me getting out of the car would have caused a stir. We both get out of the car and walk to the trunk, which I’ve popped with the key fob. “You want me to carry that?” he asks, chivalrously reaching past me to lift my duffel out of the trunk. The bastard. I really wish he’d cooperate and be an asshole so I could hate him appropriately. I grind my teeth together in an attempt to avoid screaming and give a jerky nod, letting him take the bag. It takes some effort, but I gently close my trunk, careful not to hurt my baby even though I want to smash something. I stride towards the front door behind Rhys, vigilantly trying not to stomp my feet and pout like a Goddamn toddler. My anger only grows when I notice how fucking spectacular he looks in a suit. Holy shit balls. He’s easily six foot three, maybe taller. I’m five-three on a good day, so he’s at least an entire foot taller than me. The crisp dark charcoal gray suit emphasizes the wideness of his shoulders and the line of his body as it flows from his strong neck to his lean waist and tight ass. People I hate are not supposed to be this fucking hot in a suit. © Copyright 2015 Annie Anderson
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR -
ANNIE ANDERSON
Annie Anderson is originally from Dallas, Texas but has lived in England, Las Vegas (because Las Vegas and the state of Nevada are two very different places), New Mexico, Illinois, Florida and Georgia. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two kids, and an old man of a dog.
- AUTHOR FuN FaCts -
- SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS -
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/AnnieAnde
WEBSITE: http://www.annieande.com
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