Sarah Marsh's Blog, page 7

THE THIRD WISH by Jewel Quinlan @evernightpub @JewelQuinlan

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Blurb:

Owen only has one wish left. And this time, he wants to ensure it doesn’t come with nightmare side effects like his first two did. Unfortunately, Cleo, the scornful genie granting his desires, isn’t willing help. With the wish deadline fast approaching, Owen must find a way to gain Cleo’s assistance, or he’ll be stuck forever in a tangle of his own making.

 

Where You Can Buy It

Evernight Publishing | Amazon | Barnes and Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Or add it to your shelf on Goodreads

 

Excerpt:

“…Maybe if you’d executed my first two wishes better I wouldn’t be so strung out.” Wrong thing to say. If I could have punched myself, I would have.

Cleo stiffened, eyes wide. And then they narrowed, and I could almost see the millions of ways she was killing me in her mind right now. I braced myself for a barrage of scorn mixed with profanity. If there was one thing I’d learned about Cleo in the past couple of months, it was that she had an extensive vocabulary of swear words. Not only was her range impressive, it was also interestingly exotic. I was well acquainted with it because it’d been directed at me on the frequent occasions I managed to get her to come out of the pill box. I’d thought I’d heard it all at this point in my life, but she proved me wrong. And somehow, whenever she directed her skill at me, I couldn’t help but feel that every term she used was eminently fitting.

“I’m so sorry you’re dissatisfied with your first two wishes, Master,” she drawled in an uncharacteristically chilly tone that made me shiver. “I shall return to my vessel and spend my time reflecting on how to do better with your third wish.” She turned and moved away from the door.

Fuck. The lack of profanity made me panic. I leapt up the stairs in one bound and grabbed her arm in desperation. If she evaporated back into the box, I’d have a hell of a time getting her to come out again. “Cleo, I’m sorry. Don’t go. I’m an asshole, okay? A dick. I’m—I’m every foul word you’ve called me since we met.”

The skin of her arm was soft beneath my fingers, but the biceps was firm. Did she work out? Would a genie even need to, being able to shapeshift and all? There was a small strange golden tattoo on her arm. I watched, fascinated, as it shifted from a crescent moon, to some intricate round design that reminded me of snowflakes, and then into a symbol of some kind. This close, her scent was warm in my nostrils. It was a mix of jasmine, incense, and something spicy that I had yet to identify. The intoxicating medley had visited me in my dreams more than once.

“Take … your hand … off me.”

The words were spoken slowly and in a deadly acid that had me snatching my hand back as though I’d touched a hot exhaust pipe. She glared up at me and twitched her arm as if to dislodge any germs I’d left on her creamy skin.

“Sorry. So sorry,” I said, my words coming out light and breathy as though I might set off a bomb. I took a half step back from her, lifting my hands in front of me in that universal I’m-not-armed gesture. “Please don’t go,” I pleaded. “I really need your help. Please.”

There were less than three days left for me to make my third wish, and I was desperate not to fuck it up. I’d made the first two rather quickly, and they hadn’t turned out exactly as I’d hoped. Well, no, I can’t say that. I’d gotten exactly what I’d wished for. I was now ridiculously wealthy and famous. The problem was that both of those things had come with a lot of problems, like fleeing from people who were trying to kill me for reasons I had yet to determine. And I really didn’t want to spend the rest of my life using my new, magically-granted resources running, hiding, and generally having to look over my shoulder for the rest of my days. Of course, I could always wish to undo the first two wishes. But who in their right mind would do that? I ran a hand through my hair, and pleaded with her with my eyes.

Cleo made a scoffing noise and raked a critical gaze from my black biker boots, over my favorite well-worn jeans and grey t-shirt, and finally to my face, which no doubt looked more haggard than ever from worry and an overgrown five o’clock shadow. “And why should I help you? Out of the goodness of my heart?”

I scrambled to think of something to say, but my mind was blank. I was a mere human. And before she’d come into my life, I was only doing a passable job at being that. There was nothing I could give her that she couldn’t give herself, not even freedom.

“I can’t think of anything,” I said, feeling deflated. “But maybe you can.” It was a shot in the dark, but worth it. There was a faint glimmer in her caramel-colored eyes that signaled I was on the right track. Inspired, I pushed forward, desperate. “Is there something?”

She relaxed her stance, making hope soar within me. Then she dropped her gaze to the floor as if—No. Could it be?—as if she was reluctant to say it. I closed the gap between us again, feeling bolder, but I didn’t touch her. “Tell me,” I urged in a low voice, fascinated. “I want to know. No, I have to know. What I could possibly give you that you would want?”

 

About the Author:

Jewel Quinlan is a bestselling paranormal and contemporary romance author. Since her debut in late 2013, she has published fifteen stories and has many more to come. Restless by nature, she is an avid traveler and has visited sixteen countries so far. Lover of ice cream, dark beer, and red wine, she tries to stay fit when she’s not typing madly on her computer drafting another romance novel. In her spare time, she likes to do yoga, hike, learn German, and play with her spoiled Chihuahua, Penny.

 

For more information about Jewel Quinlan

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Tumblr | Goodreads | Amazon | Instagram

Or join Jewel’s newsletter if you just want to get the most important updates

 

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ELECTRIC DESERT NIGHTS by Jewel Quinlan @JewelQuinlan

Humans aren’t the only ones drawn to music festivals, especially ones that run from dusk to dawn for three nights straight…
Entranced

When vampire Wade is told by a psychic that he’s going to meet his soulmate at Electric Daisy Carnival in Las Vegas, he thinks it’s a load of crap. But his curiosity won’t stop plaguing him. Could a vampire really have a soulmate?

Kandi

Mya hopes the music festival will take her mind off the gnawing hunger that has plagued her for months. Even though she eats plenty of food, she’s become dangerously thin. When cute stranger Somer kisses her, not only does she feel an enticing heat curl within her but something else that could be the key to making her well.

The Drop

It’s the last night of the festival, and Tyler is less than thrilled. Both his friends have met love interests, and they arrange for everyone to hang out together, which means Tyler gets stuck with the other third wheel, a girl named Scarlett. She’s sweet and has girl-next-door good looks. But when she touches him, his mind is filled with thoughts and memories that aren’t his own.

Where You Can Buy It

Paperback: Amazon

Audiobook: Audible

Ebook: Electric Desert Nights

Interview With the Author

 

What is the Electric Desert Nights series about?

Electric Desert Night is a series of three short stories all set at Electric Daisy Carnival in Las Vegas. It is a three-night event where DJs from around the world come to play various styles of electronic dance music, or EDM. Being a lover of EDM myself, I had the pleasure of attending the carnival this year and was amazed at how huge the venue was. There were seven stages total and all of them were packed with people! Each night runs from dusk till dawn (yes, I did see the sun come up a couple of times). Anyway, while I was there I couldn’t help thinking what an ideal place it would be for paranormal creatures to come and feed on humans. And, bam! That was how the series was born. You never know when inspiration will strike, lol.

In each book of the series a paranormal being is brought together with a human, and each experience is a discovery of an underlying connection between them.

Who was your favorite character to write?

Somer, the incubus, was my favorite. He’s just kind of a cheeky, comical, fun-loving incubus. He seemed to speak all on his own in my head. I myself am the opposite of him so it was interesting how his description and dialogue popped up out of nowhere from the very beginning.

Your series includes a vampire, an incubus, and a ghost. Why have several paranormal creatures?

I know most authors stick to one at a time. But I find it hard to believe that only one paranormal creature can exist in the world. If vampires can exist, why not the others? I don’t think having a ghost was too much of a stretch. Even in our world today there is a ton of evidence to support the existence of ghosts. I guess I just don’t like limitations. I actually loved the way the three of them played off of each other and had their own unique stories to tell.

Why write short stories? Why not full length novels?

I write all lengths of books. It’s really up to the story to let me know how long it wants to be. I am at its mercy, lol. But I think short stories are great for lunchtime breaks or waiting rooms or other times when you just need some quick entertainment. At minimum, I hope my stories provide readers a break (from whatever they need a break from) and let them experience something they never actually would in real life.

 

About the Author:

Restless by nature, Jewel Quinlan is an avid traveler and has visited sixteen countries so far. Lover of ice cream, dark beer, and red wine she tries to stay fit when she’s not typing madly on her computer concocting another romance novel. In her spare time, she likes to do yoga, hike, learn German, and play with her spoiled Chihuahua, Penny.

For more information about Jewel Quinlan

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Tumblr | Goodreads | Amazon | Instagram

Or join Jewel’s newsletter if you just want to get the most important updates

DON’T LET GO by Lynn Burke @AuthorLynnBurke

Don’t Let Go

 

Darkest Desires #1
by Lynn Burke

 

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

Troy Jenner’s ex called his desire to be dominated sick. Divorced, shamed, and stripped bare of his assets, Troy is gifted a three day pass to Monique’s, Baltimore’s elite sex club. He hopes to discover the depths of his desires, not fall for the Domme with a turbulent past in her eyes.

Barista by day, Mistress by night, Jaycie Atkins is the Domme assigned to fulfill submissive’s fantasies of pain with pleasure. To conquer her childhood trauma, she learned to be powerful and prudent. Always giving, never receiving. Always in control — until Troy’s grateful groans after every whip of her flogger threaten to slip past her Domme defenses. The warmth in his eyes tempting her to trust him like no other.

Will Troy’s patience and persistence in breaking down her walls pay off, or will he be forced to accept the fact Mistress will never let go and give him the collar and second chance at love he longs for?






PURCHASE LINKS: 

Changeling Press: https://www.changelingpress.com/don-t-let-go-darkest-desires-1-b-2751
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Dont-Let-Darkest-Desires-Book-ebook/dp/B07FN99TMP
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dont-Let-Darkest-Desires-Book-ebook/dp/B07FN99TMP
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dont-let-go-lynn-burke/1129107928
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/don-t-let-go-34
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/dont-let-go/id1413868467









EXCERPT:

I knelt in the middle of the dungeon-like room as I’d seen on the countless BDSM websites I’d been studying the past month, exactly like they’d shown us new subs at the introduction class the evening before. Butt naked, dick already at half-mast because I finally had the chance to explore the darkness inside of me that had killed my ten-year marriage.
As CEO of a prominent software company, I took pride in my self-control and stoic nature. Being a bastard had gotten me up the rung to where I sat comfortably behind a glass desk with windows overlooking Baltimore’s skyline. It had also earned me a nasty divorce a year earlier when my ex-wife took over half of what we owned, leaving me with a broken heart and near-empty bank accounts. At least a constant work load since then had gotten me closer to where I’d been before she’d attempted to wipe me out.
I studied my hands resting on my bare thighs. Springy hair tickled my palms. While the hair on my body remained a dark blond, the previous two years of hell had shot gray through the thick strands on my head and the scruff I couldn’t keep from lining my jaw.
Forty-three and already fucking gray. Wouldn’t help my chance at dating — if I ever got the balls to put myself out there again. I’d been celibate for over a year. Dead inside, unable to give two shits about anything but work, unable to get it up, too. I also didn’t have the energy to get involved, let alone think of dating.
Familiar exhaustion tugged on my eyelids, and I let them close while waiting for the Domme the club’s owner had booked me with for the night — Mistress Jaycie. A woman I’d never met, a woman I was going to let control me in whatever way she wanted.
Time to give over. Time to explore my lust for pain and hopefully float into that mysterious subspace I’d been reading about.
My dick twitched at the thought of pure, empty-headed euphoria.
Would the Domme I’d been paired with have a heavy hand? Would she be beautiful? Did I even care? I just wanted — craved — submission, the type that would erase the shit in my mind for a while and maybe get my rocks off.
My ex had been vanilla, same as I’d always been, and when I got the urge to introduce something new in the bedroom, she’d looked at me with disgust. Hell, I’d only suggested handcuffs and ropes, hoping she’d agree so we could eventually move on to what I really wanted.
No such fucking luck.
I breathed deep and exhaled my thoughts along with the lungful of used-up air. The silence coating the dim, private scening room at Monique’s club in downtown Baltimore soothed me. Even if it turned out the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have gotten to experience a semi-hard dick again.
A click sounded as the door opened, and I kept my head and gaze lowered as I’d been instructed in the class. Awareness crept over my skin like an electrical charge as heels clicked on hardwood. My heartbeat accelerated. The subtle scent of oranges hit my nose as black leather stiletto boots came into my line of sight.
Hot as fuck. I bit back my groan as my cock thickened. I swallowed against sudden nervousness, something I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.
“Hmm…” she murmured. The boots rounded to my left, disappearing in my periphery. “On your feet, slave.” Her low, husky voice prickled my skin, bringing my dick to full attention.
I rose with as much grace as I could, hands at my sides, erection sticking up close to my navel.
A soft inhale tickled my ears as I straightened completely.
I knew what she saw — what she probably didn’t expect for a man teetering on the brink of the downslope from his prime. Daily yoga, running, and weight training kept my body looking the same as it had at twenty-five.
Something tailed down my backbone and across the top of my ass cheeks, lacking the warmth of skin. Crop? Cane? The urge to know made me want to shift my stance, but I held still.
She rounded to the right and stopped in front of me.
From my height, most of her body came into view even though I kept my head lowered. The black leather of her boots hugged defined calves, stopping just above her knees. A good twelve inches of smooth, pale skin gave way to a tight leather skirt — also black — over flared hips, ending at her tiny waist. She held a crop in her right hand.
My dick actually jumped, bumping my abs.
I glanced up through my lashes, filling my eyes with the corset-cinched tits threatening to spill over the top. The milky-white globes set my mouth to watering.
“You will call me Mistress.”

© Lynn Burke 2018






 






ABOUT LYNN BURKE:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.



Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/
Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/
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Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/
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SHELTER, THE RECKONING by Allyson Young/ Peri Elizabeth Scott

Blurb:

Captain Jesse Forbes was understandably mistaken in his original assessment of Colonel Mitchell Stone. But his method of gathering that intel has blown up in his face.

Given Addison Longwood’s history, he knows she’ll never offer him a second chance, and working together against a common foe is going to be torture in more ways than one.

 Addison hopes for the best but expects the worst as she and her fellow defenders gain reinforcements and take it to the enemy, unaware another betrayal awaits them.

Survivors change sides and lines are blurred—good guys and bad guys wear camo.

 

Buy links:

https://www.books2read.com/u/3R16Lj 

https://www.amazon.com//dp/B07F3ND3YT

 

 

Excerpt: 

Stepping right into her space, he grasped her by the upper arms and yanked her close. The familiar feel of his body against her own, his scent, thrust her into memories—the good ones that had temporarily replaced the ones from her childhood—and nearly overwhelmed her common sense.

“Addy, I need to you to listen to me. Please.”

For an instant, she longed to melt into him, to let him kiss her the way he did, to escape from the reality that was to come. To allow what usually followed such a kiss. Her innate sense of survival overrode the impulse. Trust was such a fragile thing… Fool me once. She carried enough shame.

Twisting free, the strength of his fingers likely leaving marks, she put distance between them. “Don’t. Not ever.”

The words, spoken so adamantly, quietly and so coldly, fell between them and rose up like an invisible wall only the two of them could see.

Jesse stilled, staring at her, his whiskey-golden eyes morphing into solid amber. “You’ll never forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” She repeated what she’d said to Marcia and would repeat forever, if necessary. “Means to an end. I get it. I’d be stupid to let it get to me. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you use me again. We can’t afford to allow anything get in the way of what’s coming next. We can’t afford to be … distracted. You have everything you need.”

“This is about what happened to you growing up.”

The wistful, arbitrary feeling about her own needs burned away with white-hot rage. Damn him.

She managed a shrug but then hit back, forgetting her resolve to remain distanced. “Such a clever spy, Forbes. You know all my secrets. Good on you. Hope your real boss appreciates your diligence. Anything for the cause. It’ll look good in your report. Make sure you spell my name right.”

“That’s not—” He growled something under his breath and stalked over to a folding table, kicking a chair out of the way.

“I’m leaving. And don’t pull anything like this again.” She made her weak knees stiffen so her legs could carry her past him.

“It became so much more, Addison.” He turned and spread his hands. “I can’t go back. I wish I could. If I’d known what it could become, I’d have waited. Until you knew who I really was.”

She shut her eyes tightly against a new shard of pain in her chest before gaining the exit, not able to form a coherent response. A terrible sense of loss hollowed her senseless, but she schooled her features.

 

About the author:

 Allyson Young aka Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada. She and her husband pretend to work well together in their seasonal business.

She has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one. That was followed by a mix of spicy (Ally) and sweet (Peribeth) romances in various genres as well as a post-apocalyptic adventure without a lick of romance by Peribeth.

A bestselling Amazon author, a hybrid, and a coauthor, as of April 2018 she has published seven series and several standalones, with others in the works.

HAWK by Lynn Burke @evernightpub @AuthorLynnBurke

Hawk

Fallen Gliders #2

Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Artwork: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

Projected Release Date: July 26, 2018

Keywords: MC Romance, Contemporary, Erotic, May/December 

*Be warned: Spanking, anal sex

 

As a member of the Fallen Gliders, bad boy biker Hawk Richards tends to use his fists first and has fucked his way through the club whores. Life has been a never ending supply of bikes, women, and beer. When his brother hands in his colors, Hawk is sworn in as the new Sergeant at Arms and struggles to find meaning in the club and his existence. Until her.

Janie is curvy as fuck and the sweetest thing Hawk has ever seen. The young woman with the joy of life in her eyes is everything he’s been missing, everything he’s ever wanted. When the little butterfly falls into his arms, he wonders if someone might finally look beyond his ink and reputation to see the man hiding underneath.

Janie’s life has always been a roller coaster, and even though she’s flying high with Hawk, she knows a crash is inevitable. The last thing she wants is for him to be burdened with picking up the pieces. But how can she resist him? His touch makes her burn, and every minute in his bed intensifies her craving for more.

Can Hawk convince Janie he wants her for the long haul, or will the secret she keeps tear him from her side forever?

 
 


BUY IT ON SALE NOW FOR ONLY $2.99 AT EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING!

Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/hawk-by-lynn-burke/







OTHER RETAILERS:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FW6FVYQ
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07FW6FVYQ
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/882484
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hawk-24
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1129166052

 

 

EXCERPT:
 

We’d been in Sturgis for almost a week, and I hadn’t fucked a single woman. My outlook on life sucked the previous couple of months, to the point the thought of having my cock shoved down a willing throat or burying myself balls-deep in some random cunt didn’t even twitch my dick. I felt like a wind-blown leaf with no sense of purpose, no desire for sex or companionship. I’d taken to drinking harder stuff than my usual beer but knew the slump I floundered in wouldn’t end well unless I decided to pick my ass up and figure out my life.
Perhaps today’s the day, I told myself, picking up the shot of whiskey our waitress sat in front of me.
A flash of red-brown hair drew my gaze to the far left before I could pop out the toothpick and down my drink. A little butterfly with gray-green eyes flashing along with her wide smile. Dimple, full lips, high cheekbones—a fucking model in a tight tank and Daisy Dukes.
My cock thickened inside my leather pants, and my head turned as she slowly passed by the picture window, her face animated and lips moving as she chatted with her friends, the joyful gleam in her eyes snaring me tight. She radiated life, an exuberant, light step while I wallowed in my shit life.
Jealousy and yearning for what she experienced clenched my chest, and I found myself rubbing a hand over tattooed pecs I spent hours sculpting on a daily basis.
The little butterfly passed beyond the window, and I sat back, not realizing I’d leaned forward to keep her in sight.
“Finally see something worth fucking?” Jonny asked with an elbow to my ribs.
“Fuck, yeah. Reddish hair—not the dyed kind—and tits out to here,” I said around my toothpick, holding my hand out a few inches away from my chest. “Young and full of life.”
One of Jonny’s eyebrows rose. “What the fuck you sitting here for?”
I hesitated to glance around the group of men—fellow Fallen Gliders from across the States, discussing the lighter aspect of business. A large meeting had taken place the night before, the heads of the chapters sitting down to discuss the future of our club. Just more depressing shit to pile on life.
“Go on,” Jonny encouraged, elbowing me again.
 I hopped off my stool and pushed my way through the crowd for the front door. At six-foot-five, I had no trouble seeing over most of the heads bobbing to my right as I stepped out onto the sidewalk.
The roar of mufflers and cranking music from Christ knew where filled my ears as I breathed in the scents of exhaust, sweat, and cheap perfume in the night air. I took a half-dozen steps to the right, scanning the crowd of people on the sidewalk in front of me before pulling up short. No fucking way I was going to find her unless I acted like an asshole and shoved people out of my way while hurrying the way she’d gone.
Curses flew from my lips while I turned back toward the bar. A voice in my head sang a country hit, reminding me that if we were meant to be, it’d be.
“No fucking luck?” Jonny asked as I slumped back onto the stool.
My scowl sufficed for an answer.
Tipping back my head for the whiskey burn didn’t help my shit mood. Neither did the bloody burger and pile of fries fifteen minutes later. Thoughts of the little butterfly warred with depression in my mind, and I called it an early night, leaving my brothers behind. The quietness of the hotel didn’t offer anything but a hot shower where I could blow the load that had been building in my balls for weeks.
At least I had a semi-purpose … find the vivacious little butterfly and steal some of her joy in life for myself.

© Lynn Burke 2018
 
Sign up for Lynn’s Newsletter, and read the ENTIRE first chapter of Hawk AND enter to win an ecopy of Nicky, FG #1!
 


Other books in this series:
Nicky, Fallen Gliders #1
 
ABOUT LYNN BURKE:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
 
LINKS:
 
Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/
Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorlynnburke

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorlynnburke/
 

 

JAKE by Suzy Shearer @evernightpub @SuzyShearer

Jake

The Silk Rope Masters – Book Two

by Suzy Shearer

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Heat Rating : Level 4

Word Count: 64,579

 

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/jake-by-suzy-shearer

https://www.amzn.com/B07FTHQB8B

https://www.barnesandnoble.com

 

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T hey ooze power, control, natural dominance – and sex. They are The Silk Rope Masters.​

None have ever found love but watch out! When they fall, they’ll fall fast and hard!

 

Jake Nichols, 53, was so tall that Emily Miller, 49, had to crane her neck to look into his face. Muscular – he could pick her up in one hand and yet he held her as if she were a fragile bird.​

And that’s exactly what she was, a beautiful plus-sized woman with a pain so deep she’s buried her emotions rather than face the tragedy that happened just a few months ago.​

Jake was assigned to care for her by Master Ash, the head of Silk Rope and what Jake didn’t expect was to fall in love.

But she was only in his safekeeping until she could fly on her own then he would have to release her.

 

Be Warned: BDSM, anal sex, sex toys, voyeurism, flogging, public exhibition

This is an erotic romance. There are explicit sexual descriptions and explicit language used throughout. It will offend some readers.

 

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STORY EXCERPT:  

So here she was.

It was almost eight on Friday night, and Emily sat nervously in her car in the large car park. Would this be the same as either Threshold or The Lair? She hoped it was. If it was a lower classed place she definitely wouldn’t be coming back. Maybe she could find another club somewhere if that proved to be the case. Still she was hopeful. She couldn’t imagine the manager of The Lair, Bevan Fuller, transferring her to a lesser club.

Then she wondered for the hundredth time, “What the hell am I doing here?”

She still felt numb inside. With every emotion rammed down that hard, Emily couldn’t even cry. She actually knew how foolish she was, knew perfectly well the therapists, her family, were right. Time and again they’d told her she shouldn’t keep everything bottled up, should allow herself to grieve and move on, but she was far too frightened to face her pain.

Her weekly sessions with the therapist consisted of her sitting, staring into her lap or answering in monosyllables and refusing to utter one word about what had happened. In fact, she’d never cried, never shouted, never gotten very angry since that day. As soon as she’d woken in the hospital and given her statement to the police, every emotion, every thought of what had happened—her grief, every single thing, she pushed deep down inside her and refused to look at them. She held them down for so long that now she honestly couldn’t take the chance on remembering.

She was dead, and yet she breathed.

Sometimes in a lighter moment she thought of herself as a zombie. An animated corpse walking amid the living. But mainly Emily thought she was like a well-shaken bottle of soda pop with the lid screwed down tight. A slight twist of the cork and the whole bottle would vigorously explode, its contents scattering everywhere, never to be replaced. She couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk her emotions, couldn’t set them free—the pain would be too great, and Emily knew she couldn’t handle it. She honestly doubted she would survive if at any time she was forced to face her past.

In the back of her mind she knew if she’d grieve, she’d be able to move on and live again, but instead she tortured herself by bottling everything up. This was her only escape now, coming to BDSM clubs—her haven. Sometimes she felt they were all that was left of her life, so at least she could vicariously live through its patrons.

It was strange, but those BDSM clubs now felt more like home than any house possibly could. Inside those doors in front of her she knew what would happen. She knew the rules, and she knew the outcomes. She knew exactly how people would react, how they would be toward her. She could sit and watch and know people would leave her alone unless she indicated she wanted company. No one would expect anything of her, and she could hide in plain sight. It was her secure place, the only one she had, and she knew it would protect her. It really was her safe house—impenetrable, sheltered. All those years she’d spent at Threshold only reinforced the idea. A club was her sanctuary, a place where, even if only for a few hours, she could pretend she was still alive. A place where she could hide among the living.

But at the same time, she wondered, would she ever be able to return to the woman she was?

The one who laughed, who enjoyed life and lived it to the fullest? Or was she destined to remain empty, afraid of showing any sort of emotion, afraid to face her heartache? Terrified of the floodgates she was sure she could never hold back if she allowed one iota of emotion, of agony, of her grief to slip through.

Finally getting out the car, she walked up the stairs that fronted the huge Georgian mansion. Clutching her coat a little tighter, she entered the warm foyer. Behind a desk a large, burly man smiled warmly at her.

“Good evening, Miss.”

“Hello. My name is Emily, Emily Miller. I believe the owner from The Lair, back east, contacted your manager about me transferring from there to here?”

 

© Suzy Shearer 2018

 

 

 

ADULT EXCERPT:  

Opening her eyes, she took in the scene in front of her. A tall, shapely woman, a Domme. Her sub, naked, his wrists bound to hooks on the wall, was standing with his legs well apart, ankles fastened by a spreader bar. The Domme plied a flogger across his chest and then his thighs. As Emily watched, a flick across his testicles. He grunted. Another flick, this time the Domme wielded it upward and over his legs, catching his penis as well. His mouth opened in a silent scream as she landed a second on his cock.

Emily idly wondered what it must be like for a man to have his dick flogged, his balls whipped? Even from this distance Emily could see sweat on his face, the sheen of it glistening across his chest, as his Domme switched to a crop. A few gentle “love pats” on his nipples then thwack!

Between his legs again and this time his scream rang around the area, but Emily noticed, if it was possible, his erection seemed even harder. A few more hits, then the Domme took his face between her thumb and fingers, and she kissed him. A savage kiss that had him begging for another when she stepped away. Instead of a kiss, she grasped his cock, twisting it, pulling at it until he pleaded for release. She shook her head.

“You were a very bad boy, Brian.”

“Please, Mistress. Please.”

“No.”

His plaintive begging echoed as she hit him with the crop again, and he sagged against his restraints, disappointment radiating from him. She stepped next to him, her lips close to his ears. Emily strained to hear her words, leaning forward to catch them.

“You’ve taken your punishment like a good boy. I shall let you fuck me, but I haven’t decided yet if I shall permit you to come.”

Emily saw how the words affected him. His smile lit up his whole face as she undid the restraints. He fell to his knees, and taking her hands, he kissed them.

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you.”

The Domme made him stand. Emily could see he was wobbly on his feet, his erection still hard and strong. The Domme didn’t give him a moment to recover, and instead she led him away after making him carry her bag of tricks.

© Suzy Shearer 2018

 

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                                                                  LINKS – WHERE TO FIND SUZY:                                                               

Website :  http://www.suzyshearer.com

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

Blog:  http://suzyshearer.blogspot.com.au

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/SuzyShearer

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/suzshearer

Twitter : https://twitter.com/SuzyShearer

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sooziiis

Linkedin: http://au.linkedin.com/in/suzyshearer

Publisher: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/suzy-shearer/

Publisher: http://www.bookstrand.com/suzy-shearer

 

Email her at: suzyshearer.author@gmail.com

 

A FEW LINKS WHERE TO BUY:

Amazon: https://www.amzn.com/B07FTHQB8B

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com

Angus and Robertson: https://www.angusrobertson.com.au

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/882008

 

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BIO:

Renaissance woman, best-selling and Award winning author Suzy Shearer writes contemporary and paranormal erotic romances filled with mature and interesting characters. Her books always feature older heroes and heroines; ranging from mid 40s to 60s. The heroines are usually confident plus-sized women who are proud of their curves. Suzy feels it’s important for readers to connect.

Suzy also wants her readers to understand just because people are older doesn’t mean they aren’t intriguing, desirable, open to challenges and willing to experiment. They may be older but not always wiser. Remember sexy isn’t just for the under 30s.

A Buddhist and artist, Suzy lives in the Western Suburbs of Sydney Australia with one very spoilt dog and two equally spoilt cats keeping her company. When Suzy is not writing, she is usually painting – an accomplished watercolour Artist her subjects range from portraits and animals to nudes and landscapes. She is also a quilter, toy maker, sculptor and potter. Suzy’s Art

 

E-BOOKS OUT NOW

The Club series

The Club: Bound

The Club 2: Uncollared

The Club 3: Waxed

The Club 4: Displayed

The Club 5: Submit

The Club 6: Unmasked

 
The Hunters series

A Hunter’s Heart – Book 1

A Hunter’s Choice – Book 2

A Hunter’s Challenge – Book 3

 
Dark Desires series

(each book is a standalone)

Whipped Delights

Craving Her Master    

Melting Her Dom’s Heart

An Artist’s Kiss

Elephants and Ever-Afters

 

 


The Silk Rope Masters series

Steven

Jake
 
Single Titles

Daemons Are Forever

Build a Love

Perfect Three

Her Dom’s Secret Past

 

MOST BOOKS ARE ALSO AVAILABLE AS PAPERBACKS

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BADGER by Paige Warren & Harley Wylde @AuthorPaigeW @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

 

Blurb:

Badger – I went to prison for ten years after beating a man to death. He deserved it, and then some. I only wish he’d suffered more. Now I’m free, but things aren’t the same as when I left. The little girl I once saved is now a tempting young woman with curves in all the right places. I should stay away, far away, but I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame. The Pres of my club adopted her, so she’s definitely a no-fly zone, but fuck if I don’t want her with every breath I take. A little sample wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? As long as Griz doesn’t find out, I’ll keep breathing. Sneaking around should be easy enough. I never counted on falling for her, or finding out she was carrying my kid. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do? I’m a long-time repeat offender. I can’t walk the straight and narrow. Can I?

Adalia – I’ve worshiped Badger ever since the night he saved me. But what started as a young girl’s infatuation has grown into something more. I know he’ll never see me that way, or at least I thought he wouldn’t. When we’re together, it’s like we just can’t keep our hands off each other. It’s probably against his parole for us to be together, but he doesn’t seem to care. The heat between us is undeniable. He didn’t promise me forever, just right now. But neither of us counted on me getting pregnant, something that wasn’t supposed to happen too easily, and I have no freakin’ clue what to do. I’m scared Badger will run for the hills. He never asked for this, but then neither did I. One thing is for certain. If he doesn’t man up and my daddy finds out, there will be hell to pay. No one can hide from the President of the Devil’s Fury MC.

 

Pre-Order for August 3rd at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo

 

*Roosters is a multi-author series of stand-alone stories released by Changeling Press. Each book contains an arrogant, alpha hero in a contemporary romance setting. While Badger is an MC romance, not all of the Roosters books fall under this theme. You can find the other Roosters books by clicking here.

 

 

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*This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience.

The trip back to Blackwood Falls took too fucking long, and I was feeling anxious. It had been a long damn time since I’d been in a vehicle, and I’d much rather have spent the hour-long ride on my Harley. Soon enough, I’d take it out on the open road, and just let the tension melt away. The only thing sweeter than a ride on my bike was being between a woman’s thighs.

As Demon stopped outside the clubhouse, he tensed and turned to face me. I had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth, but something told me it wasn’t anything I wanted to hear.

“There’s something you need to know,” Demon said.

“Anyone die while I was gone?”

“No. It’s about Adalia.”

My breath froze in my lungs as I pictured her wide blue eyes as they’d stared at me in terror. I’d found her in an alley, her clothes torn, and some asshole raping her. I’d seen her around town, knew she was only thirteen, just a kid. Something inside me had snapped, and I’d beat the fuck out of that asshole. Beat him to death. I didn’t regret what I’d done, only wished I’d gotten there sooner. Adalia had watched as I killed that man, and she hadn’t uttered a word the entire time. Not even when I took her to the hospital to be checked out. I’d known it wouldn’t end well for me, but my first priority had been the girl. Anyone else might have gotten off with a lighter sentence, seeing as how I’d been protecting her. But a guy like me with priors? I hadn’t had a prayer. Ten years to give her the peace of mind that the asshole who had touched her was six feet under? Yeah, it was a trade I’d been willing to make. I’d made it then, and even knowing I’d get time, I’d do it again in a second.

I might be an asshole biker with a rap sheet, but there were some things that even I wouldn’t tolerate. Rape was one of them. Anyone harming a kid was another, and that dickweed had done both. As far as I was concerned, the world was a better place without him in it.

“What about her?” I asked.

She’d be twenty-three now. Probably had a steady job, a nice boyfriend. At least, I hoped that’s how her life had turned out. But the way Demon had said her name… had something happened to her while I was gone? Had some other asshole tried to hurt her, and I hadn’t been around to save her this time? My gut clenched just thinking anything bad had happened to her. She’d been such a sweetheart the few times I’d been around her, always a little on the quiet side.

“She’s here,” Demon said quietly.

My heart started pounding, and I flung open the truck door, then reached for my cut and shrugged it on. I slammed the door shut and stomped up the clubhouse steps before going inside. There were balloons and shit everywhere, and the roar of welcome as I stepped inside was near deafening. But as I scanned the crowd, it wasn’t my brothers I was taking in… No, I was looking for her. I didn’t know what she looked like anymore, only remembered her as a teenage girl. She’d been terrified the last time I’d seen her. I didn’t know why she was here, but I had to see her, to know that she was okay. I’d thought about her every fucking day that I was inside, hoping she’d been able to get past what happened to her, had gone on to live a good life. I’d thought about writing her once, just to check on her, but had decided it was best if I kept away. She didn’t need any reminders from me about what had happened to her.

My brothers hugged me, slapped me on the back, and slowly they all parted. At the back of the room stood a pixie of a woman, long blonde hair curling over her shoulders, and a body made for sinning. It was her eyes that nailed my feet to the floor. Blue. And achingly familiar. My gaze traced her features, trying to find the little girl I’d tried to save. I didn’t see even a hint of the terrified teen I’d carried out of that alley. Her features were delicate, much like the rest of her. She had curves in all the right places, and would likely be more than a handful for some men, but I’d be willing to bet she wouldn’t even reach my shoulder. Tiny. Almost like a little fairy. Slowly, Adalia walked toward me, her hips swaying with every step. Yeah, she’d grown up while I was gone, and I’d be willing to bet men fell to their knees to worship at her feet. She looked like one of those plus-sized models, but in a shorter package.

She didn’t even hesitate when she reached me, just put her arms around my neck and hugged me tight. My arms closed around her, pulling her curves against me, and I breathed in her honeysuckle scent. Closing my eyes, I just drank in the moment. She was here. She was safe. And she felt a little too damn good pressed against me. The way my jeans tightened made me want to put some distance between us. I tried like hell to keep the image of her as a thirteen-year-old girl in my mind, hoping my body would stop reacting to the woman she’d grown into, but no such luck. The breasts pressing against me were more than a handful and far too fucking tempting, as was the rest of her.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she said, her voice soft and husky.

“It’s good to see you, pretty girl. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you.”

“I tried to come see you a few times, but they always said you weren’t allowed visitors.”

I pulled away and smiled down at her. “I had a tendency to get into trouble inside. But now I’m glad you didn’t get any farther than the gates. Prison is no place for an angel like you.”

Her cheeks flushed and she smiled a little. “Welcome home, Badger.”

 

 

Paige Warren

Award-winning author Paige Warren spends her days weaving tales about alpha males and the women who love them. There’s nothing hotter than a man in tight Wranglers, dog tags (especially if he’s ONLY wearing dog tags!), or bad boys covered in ink. When Paige isn’t creating romantic tales, she enjoys reading and watching movies – romances, of course. If you see her out in the wild, you’ll most likely find her at Starbucks, sipping a white mocha with a distant look in her eyes as she figures out the right wording for the next scene in her latest book.

Author Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / BookBub / Amazon Author Page

 

Harley Wylde

Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

Harley is the bestselling author of the Dixie Reapers MC series. You can find her at harleywylde.com!

MAX’S DESIRE by Elyzabeth M. Valey @evernightpub @ElyzabethVaLey

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Alpha Protectors, 3

How can a man love a succubus without literally losing his heart? 

Alpha Protector Max almost died during his last mission to Lust’s hellish lair, but the worst torture was his failure to save Eva, a young woman who begged for his help. When he meets her again in Spain, he discovers two things. One, she is his mate. Two, she is also a succubus.

Though Eva has not come into her full power, her love could still be fatal. For how long will he be able to defy her allure? 

Pleasure is Eva’s business. Love isn’t. 

Although unaware of her true nature, as a luxury escort, she is used to men falling at her feet. Yet, Max doesn’t. Though his attraction mirrors hers, the soldier does things differently and she can’t help falling for him.

And Eva is terrified by her recurring nightmares. When someone from her past shows up, and the dreams become reality, there is only one thing that can save Max’s heart.

Be Warned: forced seduction

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Available at:



Evernight Publishing – Amazon.com – Amazon.uk – Bookstrand 

and more!

 

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Excerpt:

“What happened?”

She chuckled, self-deprecating, and shifted her gaze. “I had a nightmare.”

“Must have been quite vivid.”

Her bottom lip trembled and she sucked it in.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me about it.”

“I panicked. It was stupid, really. I don’t even remember much anymore, but when I woke up.” She shuddered. “I was screaming your name.”

“So you called me.”

Her eyes locked with his, shimmering with undisguised concern.

“I thought something had happened to you.”

Max smiled. He rubbed her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m perfectly fine, and I’m glad you called me. I was in the subway, which is why I didn’t answer.”

He spoke the truth. He’d been on his way to one of the portals hidden in the city, so he could go to the academy and do some research. When he’d received her call, he’d turned back. “How come you fell asleep? I thought you had to get ready for work.”

Eva pressed her lips tightly and squirmed on his lap. Max’s jaw dropped as her welcoming heat caressed his groin through his jeans. He gawked at Eva, taking in her flimsy attire. She hadn’t closed her robe, and the silky material gaped at the front, revealing soft, pink flesh, from the curve of her breasts to the dip of her stomach and lower. Max swallowed. Desire pumped through his veins at the speed of lightning, his cock growing at an equally alarming rate.

“I canceled my date tonight,” she said.

“How—” Max coughed. “Sorry. How come?”

She shrugged and moved again. Her lips parted soundlessly. No doubt she’d noticed the wedge of his erection. Her eyes narrowed and she grinned. 

“Well, I wasn’t in the mood to go out, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Eva—”

“I called in sick. I couldn’t bear the idea of being touched by another man.” She gave him one of her practiced coy looks. “I also masturbated to you.”

Max dropped his arms to his sides. Maybe if he didn’t touch her, he’d escape temptation. She leaned forward, rubbing against him.

“You want me,” she stated. “And I want you,” she purred.

“Eva, it’s not a good idea.”

“Why?” She pouted.

Why indeed? How did he explain his fear? How did he tell his mate that yes, he wanted to make love to her but was afraid she’d rip him apart?

Eva placed her hands on his shoulders.

“We won’t fuck if you don’t want to, but let me touch you, please you in other ways.”

She ran her hands across his chest, rubbing the hilt of her palm against his straining nipples. Max threw his head back, swallowing his groan. His cock throbbed relentlessly, desperate to be inside of her.

“Please?”

She brushed her mouth over his, a light feather touch which made his heart pound, quieting the voice in his head. Eva rolled her hips, rubbing against him. Taking hold of his hands, she placed them on her hips. His fingers flexed, then slid beneath her robe to her ass, massaging the firm globes. Her gasp fueled his passion. He dipped lower, finding her slick folds.

“Max.” 

His thoughts fled, his mind becoming blessedly blank and focused on only one thing: his mate.  He pushed a digit into her, then another.

“So wet, kitten.”

“Yes, for you.”

Max pulled out and licked her cream. Musky and sweet, it was better than anything he’d ever had.

“Fuck me,” she begged.

“Not yet.”

Grasping the back of her head, he angled her mouth and kissed her hard. Eva snaked her hands beneath his t-shirt. They glided across his abdomen, heading north.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she declared.

She tugged on his shirt and he swept it off. 

“Oh my God, Max.”

He froze. Fuck. How could he have forgotten? 

 

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About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after.  From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.

When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends. 

Follow her at:

Blog

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram (@elyzabethm.valey)

Goodreads

Pinterest  (Max’s Desire has its own inspiration board)

Amazon

 

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SHELTER, The Beginning by Allyson Young / Peri Elizabeth Scott

Addison Longwood survived the plague that struck down almost

everyone around her. She survived the hazardous trek into the countryside to

find shelter within a group of like-minded individuals led by a man she can

actually respect. Settled and contributing, she allows herself a sense of hope.

From the remaining military, Captain Jesse Forbes is charged

with locating survivors in order to rebuild the country. His initial impression

of Addison’s band isn’t positive and he sets his sights on the young woman in

order to infiltrate, and assess her leader—the end justifying the means, or so

he assures himself.
But there are far greater dangers lurking, threatening the

very existence of the survivors. Alliances are forged—and tested. Betrayal cuts

deep, lives are lost and others changed forever.
Who are the good guys anyhow?


Buy Links:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07F3FXJ8W
https://www.books2read.com/u/bOARBW




Excerpt:

Wrapped in an old piece of toweling—another item to add to the shopping list—she was squeezing the moisture out of her mane when Jesse Forbes came through the door. One of her guys lingered just outside, guarding the man, but every molecule of her being told her to run, far and fast before she put some steel in her spine and managed a nod.

“Morning. I see you’re up ahead of most everyone else too,” he said.

Making small talk in the showers, with him fully clothed and her … not, sucked. To his credit, aside from one sweeping glance down her body, he looked at her face.

“Seems like it.” She edged around him, catching his amused stare and grabbed up her clothes. “Excuse me.”

“I wondered how long your hair was.”

She blinked, and despite herself, her hand rose to finger the wet tangles. Not particularly vain, she’d left her hair to grow, finding it easier to tie up and out of the way instead of fighting with the unruly curls. Especially now she could keep it clean and avoid the critters that tended to infiltrate dirty hair, particularly among close quarters. It had been carefully secured and out of the way on the mountain that day so he couldn’t have known.

Deciding not to answer, she ducked into the tacked-on separate room, no more than a tent, thank goodness for the temperate climate. She rubbed furiously at the dampness still on her skin and then yanked on her jeans under the cover of her towel. She pulled on her shirt, only then using the toweling to wring more moisture from her hair.

“Sorry. Again. I seem to put my foot in my mouth around you. And I’m not yet privy to the rules around here.” His smooth baritone sounded too damn close and she wheeled around, cursing the fact she’d turned her back on him. And he was between her and her rifle.

She hadn’t been mistaken about his size and breadth, although refused to feel intimated—or anything else. Besides, his guard was close by. Her brain processed his educated comment. Sometimes he sounded like an average Joe, then next, a college professor. Privy? Her obsession with books allowed for the interpretation, but still…

Forcing herself to project calm, or whatever felt close to that, she said, “Are you asking about segregation? Of the sexes?” And why had she used the word sex in his vicinity?

“That, among other things.”

“Mitchell, I mean, the Colonel, will apprise you.” She thought she saw a glimmer of intrigue in those strangely colored eyes but it passed too quickly to be certain.

“He said he’d assign someone. As a guide. Aside from my armed escort.”

“Then you’ll be set. Excuse me.”

“Is there a time that’s better for me—and the guys—to shower?” His hands went to the collar of his T-shirt and he tugged it over his head.

Addy had seen enough torsos—and other man parts—in her life. How could she not, given her history and where she now slept? So Jesse’s cut chest and chiseled abs shouldn’t have had any effect on her. And they didn’t, her excellent self-control surging to the fore. They. Did. Not.

“No set times,” she said, infusing her voice with casualness. “This shower is communal for the fighters. The camp defenders, I’d guess you’d call us. There’s another, larger one for the rest of the camp. The guys make allowances for us four women—me, Marcia, Denise, and Laura—first thing. I woke up earlier today.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Was that a knowing look? She fought a blush. He was getting under her skin and she had no doubt he knew it. Probably knew women inside and out, had lots of experience with them. Well, she had lots of experience with men, too, and none of it positive.

“I slept fine,” she lied. “I woke early, is all. So if you hurry, you won’t be disturbed by the other women when they arrive. Unless it won’t bother you.” For sure it wouldn’t bother Denise and probably not the other two.

“I’ll just be quick then.” His long fingers reached for the button on his khakis. It didn’t escape her notice he didn’t remark on being disturbed by the women.

Refusing to look as though she was fleeing, Addy folded her towel before turning on her heel and stalking out, dipping to snatch up her rifle. The glimpse of his naked, sculpted butt and strong legs was emblazoned on her retinas, but she blinked the vision away. Add arrogance to his confidence. Not necessarily a nice mix.

 

About the Author:

Allyson Young aka Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada, where she and her husband pretend to work well together in their seasonal business.

She has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one. That was followed by a mix of spicy (Ally) and sweet (Peribeth) romances in various genres as well as a  post apocalyptic adventure without a lick of romance.

A best selling Amazon author, a hybrid and coauthor, as of April 2018 she has published seven series and several standalones, with others in the works.

allysonyoung.com

LOVE REAWAKENED by LM Spangler @evernightpub @authlmspangler

 

Blurb:

Drea Tate had loved and lost … and gained.

Having been told her lover died and her life was in danger, Drea left her home in the Appalachian Mountains of Pennsylvania to start anew in Cicada Lake.

Micah Bridges had been lured to Cicada Lake by the hefty bounty for catching a wealthy bail jumper.

Imagine their surprise when they meet in the small town’s only bar. And imagine Micah’s surprise when Drea drops a photo of a young boy who looks just like him.

Lies had torn them apart. Can they reawaken the love they once shared? And is there enough love to go around?

 

 

Excerpt:

He stood and pulled her flush against his body. His mouth captured her in a brutal, soul-searing kiss before he lifted his head. “I love you.”

She rubbed the fingertips of her index and middle finger over her lower lip. “I love you, too.”

He grinned as the voices neared. “Good.”

The air around him began to swirl, becoming tornadic. The fire blew out and hot ashes rose, circling around him. Through the glowing haze, he saw her body blur then disappear into the whirlwind. She had become one with the gale.

Her alluring vanilla aroma—so enrapturing—blew away, making it impossible to follow her trail.

Knowing she was safe, he turned toward the brush as his uncle and cousin stepped into the small clearing.

His uncle lifted his nose and inhaled deeply. “So, your bitch eludes us again. No matter.”

His cousin threw his head back and laughed. “You won’t be alive long enough to worry about her anymore.”

“What do you mean?” the alpha-elect asked. Sounds of rustling underbrush signaled the approach of more people. His head turned from side to side. “What’s going on?”

His uncle smirked. “I should inform you that your father has met…” He paused for a moment. “An untimely demise.”

Anger rushed through the alpha-elect like a fireball. “He what?”

The rustling grew louder until four wolves stepped into the clearing.

“What the fuck is going on?”

The wolves surrounded the alpha-elect, circling menacingly.

“He’s dead. And soon you will be, too,” his cousin answered.

His uncle pointed and then all hell broke loose.

The wolves lunged. Claws slashed. Teeth bit. The alpha-elect was attacked on all sides. Pain tore through him as blood had begun to flow from multiple wounds.

Defenseless. It had happened so fast. He couldn’t fight back. He had his strength, but he was no match for four fully matured wolves. He fell to the ground and covered his head as the sound of growls and chomping jaws rent the air.

His life force started to waver. He’d lost too much blood.

He was going to die.

But his last thoughts weren’t of the unbearable, burning pain or betrayal.

They were of her.

 

 

Buy Links:

Available at your favorite ebook retailer!

Book 2 Reads

https://www.books2read.com/ap/nlvm5x/LM-Spangler

 

About LM:

She lives close to the Maryland border in South Central Pennsylvania. Her husband is wonderfully supportive of her in all aspects of her life. She has a son who is currently serving our country in the U.S. Navy. Her daughter is still in school. She’s blessed to have the three of them in her life.

From a young age, she remembers burying her nose in a book. A love that her mother and father passed onto her brother and herself. From her passion for reading sprang her love of writing Her mind is so often full of story ideas from the wildly paranormal to contemporary. She has notebooks lying about with story outlines and character descriptions. A song or TV show can spark an idea, which circles her mind until she puts the idea on paper.

When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, burying her nose in a book, and watching a vast variety of television shows from crime dramas to 1970’s game shows. She even dabbles in crafting. Her favorite craft would be jewelry making. Nothing like creating wearable art.

Social Media Links:

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/authorlmspangler

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authlmspangler

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlmspangler/

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/+LMSpangler