C.M. Stunich's Blog, page 13
June 14, 2013
SCHEDULE CHANGE ANNOUNCEMENT
*~*SCHEDULE CHANGE ANNOUNCEMENT*~*
Hello, lovely readers and fellow awesome-folk. As you may have noticed, I’ve been busy with lots of cover reveals and back to back releases. As such, I’ve had a hard time responding to emails/sending out prizes, so if you’re expecting a response, just know that I have not forgotten about you!
So, I’ve been working like crazy, but I’m having trouble typing due to an aggressive onset of my carpal tunnel/tendonitis. Therefore, I owe you all a very strong apology because I’m going to need to move back the release dates of my next few books. The good news is that they’re not being moved back far, and I’ve also added the sequel to “Real Ugly” to the list, so you can get that sooner rather than later.
You’ll find the updated schedule below. Again, I want to apologize profusely. I feel terrible about this, and I hope that nobody is angry with me. I love you all very much and am floored by the wonderful support I’ve gotten from my readers and the Indie community.
xoxo CM Stunich
UPDATED SCHEDULE
“Real Ugly” – RELEASED AND LIVE ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE
“Color Me Pretty” – June 20th
“Never Can Tell” – June 25th
“Loving Me, Trusting You” – June 30th
“Get Bent” (Sequel to “Real Ugly”) – July 5th
June 10, 2013
“Real Ugly” – a New Adult Rock Star Romance is LIVE on Amazon!
“REAL UGLY” – A New Adult Rock Star Romance is live on Amazon!
(Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and paperback links coming soon!)
Amazon US Link: CLICK HERE
Amazon UK Link: CLICK HERE
Amazon CA Link: CLICK HERE
June 7, 2013
“Color Me Pretty” – New Adult/Romance/Anorexia
~*~ OFFICIAL “COLOR ME PRETTY” COVER REVEAL ~*~
Title: Color Me Pretty
Series: A Duet #2 (this is the final book in the series; the first book, “Paint Me Beautiful”, can be found here: http://smarturl.org/snfxf)
Genre: New Adult/Romance/Anorexia
Mature – Ages 16 and Up Due To Some Language and Sexual Themes
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17797720-color-me-pretty
Goodreads Link to Book One: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17668900-paint-me-beautiful?ac=1
Release Day: June 15th, 2013
~~~!!!SALE!!!~~~ “Paint Me Beautiful” will be on sale for 99 cents from June 8th – June 15th http://smarturl.org/snfxf
Blurb:
“I’ve done it this time. I’ve really screwed up. I’ve made a mistake, and I’m afraid that it’s going to cost me everything ? my family, my career and most importantly, Emmett Sinclair. He saw the beauty inside of me, looked past what I was becoming on the outside, and gave me his trust. Everyone thinks I tried to kill myself; I think I made a mistake. They all say I’m halfway to the grave; I say I’ve been reborn. Nobody knows what I’m going through, so I’m going to have to fight harder than ever before. The problem is, I no longer know exactly what it is I’m fighting for.”
AUTHOR LINKS
Official Webpage: http://cmstunich.com/
Facebook Friend Page: https://www.facebook.com/cmstunich
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/cmstunichauthor
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/C.M.-Stunich/e/B008FT7CAO/?_encoding=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&linkCode=ur2&qid=1363702802&sr=8-2-ent&tag=boobroandbar-20
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6432984.C_M_Stunich
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/cmstunich
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/c.m.-stunich
Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/search/search.html?q=%22C.M.+Stunich%22&t=none&f=author&p=1&s=none&g=both
June 5, 2013
“Real Ugly” – A New Adult Rock Star Romance
Title: Real Ugly
Series: Hard Rock Roots #1
Genre: A New Adult Rock Star Romance
Mature – Ages 18 and Up Due to Dirty Language and Raw Sex
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17869239-real-ugly
Release Day: June 10th, 2013
BLURB:
“Turner Campbell is an asshole.
I f*cking hate him.
But I can’t get enough either.
He sings like an angel and f*cks like a devil.
If I could, I’d run away and never look back because to tell you the truth, I think this man might be the death of me.
***
Naomi Knox is a bitch.
I can’t f*cking stand her.
But I can’t stop thinking about her either.
She looks like an angel and plays like a devil.
If I could, I’d f*ck her good and forget all about her, but to tell you the truth, I think this woman might be my last saving grace.”"
May 18, 2013
New ‘Never’ Book Teaser & ‘Real Ugly’ Teaser
Hey lovely readers! ♥ When I get to 3,000 “likes”, I’m going to release a teaser to the next Never book, Never Can Tell. If you thought the first three were doozies, wait’ll you check this one out! 
Thanks for checking out my page and happy reading!!
~~~~
https://www.facebook.com/cmstunichauthor
*****
REAL UGLY. NEW ADULT ROCK STAR ROMANCE. COMING MAY/JUNE FROM CM STUNICH.
*~UNEDITED TEASER~* (Warning: Contains Mature Language and Themes. 18 and Over Only)
~*TURNER CAMPBELL*~
I’m looking down, so I’m not paying attention to where I’m going. Doesn’t matter anyway. When people see me coming, they get out of my way.
“Hey!” a girl shouts as our shoulders slam together and my cigarette topples out of my mouth. “Watch where you’re fucking going!” A crumpled ball of leather slams into my chest before I get the chance to process that the chick standing in front of me is the girl from the bus last night, the one on the couch. Holy fuck me. She looks even better in the daylight. She’s tall, fucking got legs for days, and her tits are practically falling out the top of an asymmetrical tee that’s cut up and hanging in long strips over her bare belly. Skin like porcelain, orange-brown eyes that bite, and swollen lips. Hell to the fuck yeah. She’s exactly my type. My irritation at having her bump into me dissipates right away, and I switch on the charm.
“Hey, baby, do I know you from somewhere?” I shake out the crumpled leather as she scowls at me and realize with a start that it’s actually my jacket. Must’ve left it on her bus last night. I wonder if we fucked. If we did, then it’s a memory I’m sad to forget.
“Yeah, last night when I cleaned your puke off my carpet and pulled your dick out of my friend. Hey, next time you decide to screw a drunk chick, make sure she’s sober enough to remember her own name. Can you do that for me, Turner?” I lick my lips and shake out the jacket, tossing it over my shoulder with a scowl of my own. Hot as this chick is, nobody talks to me like that. If I’ve ever fought for anything in my life, it’s the right to be respected. Even a tight body and a dangerous scowl can’t change that.
“Hey, if I touched your friend, it’s because she wanted me to.” I snap my fingers and lean in close. “Oh yeah, and it’s none of your damn business.” Hands come out quick and hit my chest, knocking me back a step. Mostly from surprise. She isn’t as tough as she thinks.
“Next time you pass out on my bus, I take payment from you in the form of diseased body parts.” She waves her hand at my dick and then she tries to turn away. My fingers on her shoulder spin her around and this time, she hits me right in the face.
“You fucking bitch,” I snarl as she stands her ground and stares me down. “I could have you kicked off the tour for that shit. Or thrown in jail. Who the hell do you think you are?” The woman raises her chin and takes a deep breath while the wind teases her auburn hair around her soft face. She’s acting fierce, but I can see right through her. This chick is vulnerable, half ready to crack. Wonder if I could help her along a little? Broken souls are my specialty.
“My name is Naomi Knox,” she says and then takes a step closer to me, so close that the toes of our shoes touch and her breasts brush up against my chest. Almost immediately, my cock springs to attention and gets hard as a fucking rock, expanding along the length of my thigh and pressing against the tight fabric of my jeans. Fuck that hurts. Guess this my penance for wearing girls’ pants. “And I’m not afraid of you, Turner Campbell, so fuck off.”
She spins on her heel and smacks me across the cheek with her hair. As she moves away, I see something in her face. I don’t know what it is, but it triggers something else in me. I know I’ve met this girl before, and I’m not going to rest until I figure out where.
April 29, 2013
Sequel to “Losing Me, Finding You”
This blog post is going to be short and sweet:
Yes, I have caved into pressure and there WILL be a second book to “Losing Me, Finding You” titled “Loving Me, Trusting You”. More details to come shortly!
And just in case you hadn’t heard:
I am writing the sequel to “Paint Me Beautiful” as we speak, “Color Me Pretty”.
I am writing a follow up series to the Never say Never trilogy called Never Too Late with some Ty POV in there for y’all.
I am also writing a rock star new adult book called Real Ugly.
Stay tuned for more or follow me on Facebook!
April 20, 2013
“Losing Me, Finding You” Is Available on Amazon!
Need a little hot biker romance?
Check out my new release, “Losing Me, Finding You”.
**PAPERBACK COMING SOON; SIGNED COPIES ALSO COMING SOON**
April 12, 2013
Sexy Sample Chapter Teasers!
Please enjoy the first two chapters of my upcoming biker/new adult novel, “Losing Me, Finding You” and let me know what you think! If you comment below, you will be entered to win a signed magnet featuring Austin Sparks himself. Contest ends 04/20/13 and will be announced on the bottom of this post.
I wake to a dull roar that quickly becomes deafening. The sound rattles the windows in my bedroom and sends my father into a raging fury about those darn criminals which I can only assume refers to the motorcycle gangs that have been rolling into town lately for the antique bike show. My father does this every year, says these things every year. I should really move out.
“Amy,” my mother says, opening my door the same way she has every day since I started kindergarten. “Time to get up. We’re meeting your aunt over at the church to plan the potluck on Saturday.” I smile and nod, hold my tongue and refuse to tell her that a potluck plans itself. People bring dishes; other people eat them. There isn’t much to figure out.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say and blow her a kiss as she backs away and resigns herself to listening to my father complain. What he conveniently forgets is that those ‘criminals’ make up a pretty hefty portion of our town’s summer economy. Without them, I don’t think many of the shops downtown would still be in business. I sigh and stand up as another wave of noise approaches from the direction of the highway. Moved by my curiosity, I stand by the window and part the drapes so I can catch a glimpse of the men and women who are so far outside my realm of being that they might as well be aliens. They wear leather and have piercings and tattoos. The open road is their home and mine, mine is this three bedroom, two bath prison which is perfectly nice but so stifling that sometimes, it makes me sick.
I watch the wave of bikers drive by and press my fingertips to the shaking glass.
“Take me with you,” I whisper as they fly by and disappear around the corner. I imagine what it would feel like to just run away with them, try something new, something different. I shake my head and turn away. It’s not going to happen, not for me. Girls like me don’t wrap their arms around men in leather, straddle massive hunks of metal that my mom refers to solely as death traps, drive to cities we’ve never been. Girls like me put on their yellow camisoles, their white sweaters and their below the knee skirts. We grab our purses, slather on some clear lip gloss and sit in the passenger seat while our mother talks about the nice boy who just moved to town with his parents. Poor guy, I think as I imagine his fate. He may as well have the words ‘fresh meat’ tattooed on his forehead like one of those biker boys. The girls from my church are going to be all over him. After all, in a town of five thousand people, it’s not as if we have many choices. I should go to college, I think as my mom continues to talk in the background. Maybe somewhere far, far away. I sigh and smile at my mother who’s patting my knee. Like I said, me, coward. Period.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” my aunt says as she comes out the front doors of the church in an outfit disturbingly similar to mine. “We have a serious problem.” She sighs and makes the sign of the cross which bothers my mom because we’re not Catholic. My aunt loves church functions, church rummage sales and church gossip, but I don’t think she really likes church in and of itself. I bet she’d be hard pressed to even remember Jesus’ role in the whole of things. I’m not judging her, but I just think she’s shallow and as see-through as a piece of glass. I’m like that, too, I think, but I wish I wasn’t. I wish I had some substance.
I tune out my aunt and turn slightly, so I can see the main thoroughfare of the town down the hill from us. It’s absolutely packed with people, humming with this wild energy that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. I’ve never been to the motorcycle show which seems strange since I’ve lived here my whole life. My father, however, has always forbidden me to go. This year, even though I’m twenty-one years old, isn’t any different. I really should put my foot down and let him know that I’m an adult and can make my own choices, thank you very much, but I haven’t felt passionate enough about anything to take a stand.
When my mom and aunt start to move inside, I follow them and sit at the table with the other lunching ladies while they plan the same potluck we have every month, the one that doesn’t really need any planning. Of course, under the table I have the greatest treat of all, one that doesn’t involve church or yellow sweaters or cheese casseroles. Under the table, my book boyfriend is sucking on my toes.
“I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone else,” Adam says to me as he kisses the arch of my foot and starts to move his way up my leg, ever so slowly, teasing my skin with his teeth, tasting my thighs with the hot heat of his mouth until he comes to my –
“Amy?” my mother says, waving her hand in front of my face. I look up and see seven curious expressions staring back at me.
“Hmm?” I close the book around my hand, determined to dive back in as soon as the setting permits; it’s the only way I’ll stay sane. The rest of the day isn’t exactly looking up as we have plans to help my cousin try on wedding dresses. My mother wanted to wait until the motorcycle show was over, but Jodie’s having a shotgun wedding (don’t tell anyone outside the family, please) and she needs a dress like yesterday. The wedding is in two weeks after all, and there isn’t much time left. My bridesmaid dress is going to be fuchsia. I know it is. I just know it.
“Can you make your caramel sticky buns for Saturday? The ones with the pecans?” Oh. Yes. Sticky buns. Maybe I can steal a few for myself, put them in my room and get ready for my hot date with Micah, the book boyfriend I haven’t met yet but am absolutely thrilled to climb into bed with.
“Of course,” I say with a smile as I tuck my chestnut hair behind my ear. It’s the same color as the tabletop we’re all sitting around. That’s kind of depressing. The ladies go back to discussing the tablecloth colors and the chair arrangements in the dining room while I duck my head and reopen my book.
“Fuck me, Adam,” I say as I turn over and put my ass in the air for his viewing pleasure. “Fuck me until the cows come home.”
I snort with laughter and once again manage to draw attention to myself.
“Are you laughing at a book?” my mother asks, like that’s so strange. I know she reads romance novels, too. She hides them from my dad under the sink in the bathroom and takes extra long showers so she can finish them. I shake my head and clear my throat.
“No, I just had a little something in my throat.” I gesture vaguely around the area of my neck and try to keep smiling. I manage to divert their attention and make it out the door and into the car without further incident.
“I doubt we’re going to be able to find a parking space,” my mom says with a sigh as we wind down the road back into town, my aunt trailing too close behind us. “I may have to drop you off at the door so Jodie knows we’re here. You know how moody your cousin’s been lately.” Yeah, I think, because she’s like three months pregnant. I smile and try not to think about Adam’s deliciously sexy body. I’m almost finished with him, so I brought along an extra. Daniel’s ready and waiting inside my purse for me to finish these last few chapters.
“Okay, Mom,” I say with a cheerful smile that quickly turns into an open mouthed gawp as we hit the first traffic light downtown and find ourselves in a sea of colorful characters that make little beads of sweat appear between my mother’s eyebrows. “It’s okay,” I tell her before she starts to hyperventilate. “They’re just people.” My mother scoffs.
“Godless people,” she says, and I don’t correct her. There’s no point. Some guy with a pentagram tattoo just walked by and much as I know that could mean anything, my mom thinks it’s the sign of the Antichrist. “Do you have your pepper spray in your purse?” I took it out to accommodate Daniel, but I nod and tell her that yes, I do. I need an e-reader, I think as I imagine carrying thousands of books around in my hand. My father refuses to buy one for me, saying that digital devices like that are portals to hell in and of themselves. He let me have a computer, but he unplugs the Wi-Fi at night. I should really move out. “Go straight inside and don’t talk to anyone.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“And please don’t let Jodie try on anything that you know isn’t going to fit. You know how moody she’s been lately.”
“Okay, Mom.”
My mother pulls up to the curb and lets me out into the throng of people. I can see that she doesn’t want to leave me there, but that she’s more afraid of Jodie’s wrath than she is of the motorcycle fanatics. I’d have to agree with that one. I start towards the front door of the bridal shop and then just stop. My mom isn’t looking; Jodie doesn’t know I’m here yet. Now’s my chance to look around, just take a peek at the motorcycles. It won’t take long; after all there’s a whole row of them parked at the end of this block, just behind the red signs and yellow tape banning cars from this stretch of road. I glance over my shoulder to make sure that Mom’s completed her U-turn and start down the sidewalk.
It’s pretty obvious that I don’t fit in here which is a strange feeling. I’m your typical, middle-class, all-American white girl with blue eyes and pale brown hair, but I’m the one that’s drawing stares and raised eyebrows. Something about that is exciting to me, makes me hold my head high and strut like I’m something special. Instead of blending into the crowd, I’m standing out. Fantastic.
I pause next to a big, blue bike with metal that shimmers like the lake in summer, reflects the early afternoon sunshine into my face and makes me squint. I bend down to read the sign.
“You like Road Kings, beautiful?” a voice says from behind me, and I spin around to find a man standing far too close to my behind. My ass, I correct myself. You’re an adult; you can say it.
“Um.” My eyes are looking directly at a black T-shirt stretched over a wide chest, and I have to tilt my chin up to find the face of the man with the most amazing body ever. Oh. My. God. He looks just like my book boyfriend! “I, uh, it’s pretty,” I say which makes Mr. Motorcycle laugh.
“Pretty?” he says with some sort of Southern accent that I can’t place. “I’ve never heard ‘em described like that, but I guess you’re right. She’s one, hot fucking bitch.”
“E-excuse me?” I say, floored by this man’s language, and his fall of sandy blonde hair, his dark brown eyes that are even now sweeping my body like I’m one of the bikes for sale. He licks his lips and steps even closer to me. “S-she?” Mr. Motorcycle laughs again and I jump. I can’t help myself. I’ve never been so close to a man, let alone one with a sleeve of tattoos and muscles that are slick and moist from the hot sun overhead.
“Can’t very well be a he, right? The only thing I’m willing to ride cross country is a she.” He winks at me, but I can’t respond, not with him standing so close to me. My throat has just closed up and my mouth is dry.
“Um, okay,” I say and my voice comes out in a whisper. The man, who has the most beautifully chiseled face I have ever seen, reaches out and brushes his fingers across my arm, making me shiver.
“If you like this baby, I could show you mine,” he says and I have to blink several times before I can respond.
“Yours?”
“My ride, beautiful. You want to come see?”
“I … ” I see my mom come around the corner at the end of the block and reflexively reach out my hand for Mr. Motorcycle’s massive bicep. My fingers curl around his hard flesh and my whole body goes up in flames. Oh. My romance novels suddenly make a whole lot more sense. My skin feels hot and flushed, like it could conduct electricity. I look up into his face and see that’s he looking at me like he’s the predator and I’m the prey. “I … I have to go,” I say as I step around him and start back down the block at an even quicker pace than I came.
“Hold up there,” says the man with the dark eyes and the skulls on his upper arm. He grabs my wrist and spins me around. “You in town for the show?” he asks, as I clutch my purse against my chest and try not to pass out. It’s awfully hot out here, and my pulse is thumping in my neck like a live thing.
“I live here,” I whisper and he releases me with a wicked, nasty smile that gives me all sorts of strange feelings in my gut. “Why?”
“Well,” he says with a glance over my shoulder. “I thought you might want to grab a drink or something?”
“Um.” I steal a glance down the block and see that while my mom is gone, my aunt is staring at me like I’m possessed. Uh oh. “I have to go.” I start to turn away, but he reaches out and grabs me by the arm, firm but not rough. I shiver.
“Come on, beautiful,” he says. “Tell me your name.”
“Amy,” I say quietly, too quietly. “Amy Cross.”
“Austin,” he says, and that’s it. “Now, Amy, I’m not letting you go until you promise to meet me back here tonight for a drink.” I look into this man’s dark eyes and feel like I’m falling and burning up at the same time. Two beautiful, beautiful ways to die.
My aunt is coming towards us now, and I can see that she’s digging around in her purse. She’s probably got her pepper spray in hand. Or a cross. I have to get out of here.
“I … ” Austin does not look like the kind of man that likes to hear the word no. “Okay,” I say and he releases me with a smile.
“Yeah? Alright, maybe six?” I nod, just to get away from him, never intending on holding up my end of this one-sided bargain. “See you then, pretty girl.”
I turn away and run all the way back to the bridal shop.
“Who the hell was that?” Mireya asks me as she wraps her long fingers around my bicep and breathes her hot breath against my skin. I watch Amy’s tight, little ass as she catches up to an old lady in a sun hat and starts to explain things with her hands. Why do girls like that always gesture so much? Beats the fuck out of me.
“Just some chick I asked out for drinks,” I tell Mireya as I spin to face her and grasp her under the chin. She’s exotic, dark haired, and feisty. She’s also into things that have the ability to surprise even me.
“If you fuck her, can I watch?” Mireya asks as she wraps her arms around my waist and rubs her breasts against my chest, making me hard as a rock in the middle of the damn street. Or maybe that’s because I’m still thinking of little Miss Amy with her sharp as shit blue eyes and her rounded body, bent over that bike, ass up in the air like she was waiting for it. I smile.
“Sure,” I tell Mireya, taking hold of her hips and glaring at the guy down the block from us. He’s checking out her ass, and it’s pissing me off. What can I say? I’m a possessive motherfucker. “She might be a hard one to snag,” I say although I’m fucking with Mireya a little. I don’t just want to snag Amy. I want to own her.
“Why’s that?” Mireya asks as she stands on her toes and kisses my neck. She’s got on this perfume that doesn’t fail to excite me, not even after all these years. Mireya and I go way back. I think she’d marry me if either of us were into that, but I’m not exactly the marrying type.
“I’ll bet you a hundred bucks that she’s a virgin,” I say to her as I run my fingers through her dark hair and kiss her hard. She’s got lips that could tame a cougar, that girl does. I pull away and grab Mireya by the hand. I might have a date with Amy tonight, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with Mireya until then. “But I know you’re not,” I say, and she smiles at me, sharp lips curving up wickedly in the corners.
“Not unless you want me to be,” she whispers, pulling my hand up to her hot mouth and biting my thumb gently. Mireya’s dark eyes pull me in and wrap a web around me. She’s off the chain fucking hot. No wonder she’s always been my favorite little sugar. “If you’re into innocent, little Southern girls, I’ve got a pair of cowboy boots I could wear for you.” She pauses. “With nothing else.” I grin and pull her forward, wrapping my arm around her waist.
“Sounds good to me, beautiful,” I say as she follows me obediently across the street and towards the doors to our hotel.
I can’t say that I’m surprised when we’re interrupted.
“You!” a voice shouts from down the street, and I turn to find the old lady in the yellow hat storming towards me, purse in one hand, a black can in the other. Goddamn it. I’ve been around long enough to know a can of pepper spray when I see one. Amy is scurrying along behind the woman with one hand shielding her face from the street and the other tugging at the woman’s pink jacket. I drop my arm from Mireya’s waist suddenly, like I’m afraid it’ll scary Amy off. Shit, Austin, if the girl can’t handle it, let her go. I keep my arm at my side.
“Yeah?” I ask as Mireya sighs and lights up, moving away from the scene of the crime and towards a pack of shirtless dudes that are hovering a little too close to her bike. She doesn’t like to get involved in my altercations. Not to say that there are a lot, but I have been known to start some trouble. “Something wrong, gingersnap?” I ask the lady as she removes her hat and reveals a head of scruffy, orange curls. I’d have pegged her as Amy’s mama, but there’s no way these two are that closely related. Amy has that long, soft hair that’s perfect for pullin’. When I see her glance up at me with a pained expression, I just want to reach out and wrap it around my fist, tug her to me and take those sexy lips between my teeth until she cries my name.
“Excuse me!” the old lady snorts as she waves the black can in my face. I don’t flinch. These old Southern broads are tough as leather, and I am in no way ready to take on a lady whose blood runs with the fire of the sun and the earth, no ma’am. “But you need to keep your hands to yourself. If I see you touching my niece again, I might feel the need to call the sheriff and give him a piece of my mind. It’s bad enough that we have to put up with your people year after year, but that doesn’t give you the right to harass my family!” I take a deep breath and try to control my anger. If Old Lady Gingersnap had been a man, I’d have decked her. As things stand, she’s a pretty old thing with firecracker eyes and a sharp tongue. A little respect can go a long way, provided it’s applied in all the right places.
“You’re right,” I say to her, although my eyes are all for Amy. I don’t think she knows how hot she looks in that little sweater. If it were up to me, I’d tear it right off her shoulders, slam her against this wall and show her a real good time. Amy looks like she’s in need of some fun. Her neck is stiff and her eyes dart every which way, so she doesn’t have to look at me. She isn’t scared. Oh no, not this little lovely. She’s excited. I can practically smell her excitement, her curiosity. This is a girl that’s been dying to get out for awhile, and it’s just a matter of time until she snaps. Maybe I could help her along a little? “I had no right to touch Miss Amy here. If you’ll accept my deepest apologies.” I reach out and grab Old Lady Gingersnap’s hand, pressing it to my lips for a kiss. She blushes, but she doesn’t spray me with her can which is a whole other sort of euphoric. There is nothing worse than getting sprayed in the face with that shit. “I’d like to make it up to poor Miss Amy by taking her out tonight.”
“I already gave you my answer,” Amy hisses as she drops her hand and takes a deep breath like she’s preparing for trouble. Her blue eyes finally lock onto my face and hold my gaze without flinching. There’s a whole lot more to sweet, little Amy than first meets the eye. She’s telling me yes, but she’s telling her auntie no. Smart girl. I’m not usually the type of guy that aunties approve of. They want to fuck me, maybe, but they don’t approve. Nuh uh. “Come on, Megan,” she says to her aunt who has finally tucked her pepper spray away with a sigh. “Let’s go before Jodie has a fit.” Amy starts to turn away, but she keeps her eyes on mine until the last possible second. When she finally tears them away, I have an almost physical reaction to chase after her. How fucking strange is that?
“First time I’ve seen you beat down by an old lady,” Mireya says as she returns as quickly as she left. I wouldn’t say she’s the jealous type, but maybe she can tell that I like Amy. A lot. And I have no clue why.
“Well,” I say as I pop a cigarette into my mouth and take Mireya into my arms. “You’ve never been up against an Old Gingersnap like that. You’re from up North, so you have no idea what these Southern ladies are like.”
“Oh?” she asks as she leans in and kisses my neck. “And you don’t think I’m a tough bitch? Why don’t you let me prove it to you?” I tangle my fingers in her hair and pull her head back, so I can get a good look at her. Oh yeah. Mireya is hot, no doubt about it. Why the fuck then, am I thinking about Amy Cross when I start to kiss her?
April 10, 2013
“Written in the Stars” Official Cover Reveal
Title: Written in the Stars
Author: Jennifer Martinez
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 30, 2013
Quote:
You’ve got to kiss a few frogs before you find your Prince.
Cover Design By: Amanda Carroll @ https://www.facebook.com/sarianroyal
Theme Song:
Just Give Me a Reason – Pink
Synopsis:
Believers of fate, destiny, whatever, say that there are many paths to your one final destination. No matter what choices you make you will always end up right where you are supposed to be. Well I guess I took the road less traveled because God knows I’m broken, bruised, and damaged.
This is my story. It’s about all the wrong turns that led to the right destination. We were written in the stars from the very beginning and neither of us knew it. Love is something you can’t fight and can’t hide from no matter how bad you want to. This is my cosmic turn of love.
Book Links:
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17726615-written-in-the-stars
FB Event: https://www.facebook.com/events/167814273377194/
Webpage: http://jmartinezauthor.com/category/wits/
Author Bio:
One day while slaving away at her monotonous day job, Jennifer Martinez found her true calling. Like a firefly in the night, the pages called to her. Once she caught the bug there was no stopping it. Her fingers flew furiously across the keyboard winding tales of love, mystery and anger. She snapped out of her reverie to find herself still behind the desk but at least she knew who she was… Author Jennifer Martinez.
I like to think of myself as a beautiful conundrum. When I am not writing, I can be found surrounded by my amazing family and 4 dogs or volunteering at a local animal rescue. I love who I am and don’t mind at all when I get strange looks from people. I am a tattoo covered, child and animal lover who looks forward to destroying peoples preconceived notions of what “someone like me” would be interested in. You only live life once… you may as well make it interesting.
I love to get lost in a good book and hope that everyone will get lost in mine.
Links:
Jennifer Martinez Official Webpage
Jennifer Martinez on Facebook
Jennifer Martinez on Twitter
Jennifer Martinez on Amazon
Teaser:
I moved my curly brown hair over my shoulder as he began slowly unzipping my dress, savoring every inch of the skin he had never seen. As my dress fell to my feet I was completely open for him to see. I turned back around and we began kissing again as I fumbled with the buttons on his white dress shirt. Once I had the final button undone I traced my fingers up his washboard abs over his chest and onto his shoulders where I finally lifted the shirt of his solid frame. When his shirt finally shared a space next to my dress, he lifted me up and onto the bed. With both of us now on the bed, things continued to get hotter. His kisses no longer stopped at my collarbone and every time my breath would catch he would wait a second then continue. I took the time he was leaning over my exposed body to take him in in all his splendor. I traced every inch of his skin with my fingertips making sure I memorized every muscle and every dip. I finally snuck my finger inside the waistband of his jeans and we took the next step.
Now honestly I can’t tell you exactly what happened. I know that once I undid the button on his pants he stood up and let his jeans fall to the ground as he grabbed a condom from his bedside table and put it on. I can also tell you that he looked absolutely perfect with his red swollen lips, flushed face and perfect chest rising and falling with the excitement that hung in the air like a fog. When he climbed back on the bed he slowly removed my panties and then we were dancing. It was like the perfect waltz, slow and a little awkward at first while I learned the moves but once I was confident in my dance we were like Cinderella and Prince Charming at the ball. Dancing on clouds, perfectly content and in love. I didn’t say it that night and looking back, if I had things may have gone very differently. Fate’s kind of a bitch like that.
April 6, 2013
“Losing Me, Finding You” Official Cover Reveal
Title: Losing Me, Finding You
Author: C.M. Stunich
Genre: Contemporary Romance Erotica/New Adult/Biker
Release Date: April 20, 2013
“Austin Sparks crushes me against the pool table with his hips, the roughness of his jeans rubbing against the smoothness of my thighs as he pushes up my skirt with his warm hands. ‘Get ready for this, beautiful.’”
Twenty-one year old Amy Cross’s idea of a hot Saturday night is curling up with her favorite book boyfriend and secretly sneaking a bottle of her mother’s wine. That is, until she meets Austin Sparks, the biker boy with a past that burns like fire and a gaze she can’t look away from. Without knowing what she’s doing or why she’s doing it, Amy ends up on the road with Austin traveling from one city to another while learning things she’s only ever read about in romance novels.
At first it seems like Austin is Amy’s fantasy come true, but as their journey progresses, she starts to sense that Austin is running away from something. Amy knows that she’ll do whatever it takes to help him find himself. What she doesn’t expect is that she’ll lose herself in the process and how good it will feel to be free.
LOSING ME, FINDING YOU TEASER
AUSTIN
Amy pushes through the doors in the back like she knows exactly where she’s going, leading us into a room with four pool tables and not much else. Once she’s inside, she spins to face me, her beautiful hair sticking to her lips as it flows around her face.
“How do I join?” she asks and it takes me a long, hot second to figure out what it is that she wants. I’m having a hard time thinking past the surges of excitement that are coursing through my body, begging me to grab the girl and throw her over the green felt, fuck her until these strange feelings inside of me are gone.
“I don’t know what you mean, babe?” I ask as Amy steps close, too close, and her heat envelopes me, teasing me with the soft scent of flowers and sex. This girl is ready whether she knows it or not.
“Your gang – group – whatever. The people with the triple M’s on the back of their jackets.” Ah. The girl wants to join my motorcycle club. I pause for a moment and rub my chin, trying to figure out what to say. She’s not the first chick to ask, but she is the first to seem so serious about it, to look at me with eyes burning with fire and a voice quavering with need, like if I don’t answer her, she’ll shrivel up and die.
“Believe me, Amy, when I tell you that you don’t want to be a part of this.”
“No,” she tells me, glancing up sharply. “I need to be.”
And then she’s stepping forward and running her hands up my chest, leaning forward on her toes so that the lace trim on the neckline of her top skims the fabric of my shirt, close but not close e-fucking-nough.
“Help me,” she whispers, voice dropping so low that the last word barely reaches my ears. Or maybe my pulse is pumping too loud in my Goddamn head to hear anything at all; I realize that the buzz and the clink of glasses from the bar has gone silent. Whoever this girl is, I don’t care. All I know is that I need her, now, right here, fucking fast and friggin’ furious. But then I remind myself that she’s a virgin and a small town lady who doesn’t know shit about shit, and I just can’t do that to her, not unless she asks.
“This ain’t a pleasure trip,” I tell her, hoping for her sake that she backs up or I don’t know if I’m going to be able to control myself. “We’re not just fancying around on pretty bikes and scoping the scenery. If you want to do that, go call the AMA. You don’t want anything to do with Triple M. Shit, I don’t even want anything to with Triple M.” Not anymore, I think, but I can’t delve too deep into feeling sorry for myself. It’s impossible to get wrapped up in my mind when my body is this stiff, pulsing with heat so hard it hurts. What the hell is it with this Amy girl?
“Please.” Just that one word, thrust at me with force and the weight of a gaze that’s beyond desperate for something different, something new. Amy’s fingers curl in my shirt, graze the skin on my chest hard enough to bruise as she lets her eyes flutter closed and parts her soft, wet lips.
Ah, shit, I think. Fuck this self-restraint bullshit.
I reach up and grab Amy’s chin hard, pulling her forward so that she trips and falls fully against me, rubbing her breasts along my chest as my hand slides down and cups her ass, nice and firm. She yelps, but she doesn’t say a word, eyes flickering open and locking onto mine without a hint of fear. A wicked smile curves my lips. I knew it. This girl might be a virgin, but she’s not some innocent little doe; she wants this, maybe more than I do.
“Let me take care of you, baby. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, I’ll help you forget,” I say, pulling her face up to mine and crushing my lips against hers.
AMY
Austin grabs me roughly and slams me into his firm body, grabbing my behind – ass, Amy, it’s an ass – and searing my face with his hot mouth. A noise escapes me and sends goose bumps springing up on my arms and legs. It’s a sound that I’ve never heard come from my throat and it’s a bit startling. My mind, so used to analyzing everything, wants to focus on this, to force me away from this man that smells like oil and leather, but it loses out to the wants of my body. Long denied her basic right to feel human, she lifts my arms up of her own accord, rallying against my uncertainty and my trepidation at the unknown. My fingers tangle in Austin’s sandy hair as his tongue slips into my mouth, teasing me with hot, slick strokes while his own fingers massage my butt with a ferocity that’s almost frightening.
Oh dear, I realize as another moan slips out of me and mingles in the space of hot breath between Austin’s and my mouth. You’re just like my favorite book boyfriend. Now I know why I was so drawn to you. I try my best not to recall the very arousing scene in which Glance Serone thrusts his hard cock into the horribly sex-starved Miss Sali Bend.
I fail miserably.
And then I’m thinking about that scene and how many times I read it and how I rubbed myself in circles through the thick cotton of my very tasteful, very dull, laceless, nude panties.
“Austin,” I whisper as he steps forward and uses the weight of his body to get me right where he wants me. I want to keep kissing forever, tasting sultry Southern boy and good manners and a filthy fucking mouth, but I think he has other plans.
“If you don’t want this,” he whispers as he grazes my ear with his white, white teeth. “Then you better tell me now because once I get started, I ain’t gonna be able to stop.”
How unfair, I think because really, there is no way that I can speak with scalding kisses being pressed to the side of my neck and my shoulder. Instead, another sound escapes my lips, bursting out into the air like a sigh of relief. Finally, I think. After all these years of reading about bad boys and alpha males and delicious men with ridiculous names, it’s my turn. Mine. Mine. Sorry, Horse; Sorry, Kellan Kyle; Sorry, Ty McCabe; Sorry, Travis Maddox; Sorry, Gideon Cross. But I’m breaking up with all of you.
“That’s what I thought.”
Austin Sparks crushes me against the pool table with his hips, the roughness of his jeans rubbing against the smoothness of my thighs as he pushes up my skirt with his warm hands.
“Get ready for this, beautiful.”
And then he’s spinning me around, so suddenly that my mouth opens wide and my cheek (my unbruised one, thankfully) slams into the felt of the pool table.
Book Links:
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17727180-losing-me-finding-you
Author Links:
Official Webpage: http://cmstunich.com
Facebook Friend Page: https://www.facebook.com/cmstunich
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/cmstunichauthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6432984.C_M_Stunich
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/cmstunich
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/c.m.-stunich
Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/search/search.html?q=%22C.M.+Stunich%22&t=none&f=author&p=1&s=none&g=both
Facebook Party: https://www.facebook.com/events/106669856195915/
