Tabatha Vargo's Blog, page 2

FREE BOOKS AND A SALE!

KINDLE UNLIMITED FREE AND A $.99 SALE!! FREE READ BOOKS!

The Blow Hole Rock Hard Box Set- 5 books
Slammer- Dark prison romance
Jack Hammer - second chance stripper romance
The Procedure - Doctor/patient romance
The Wrath of Sin -Dark romance
 AND....

BLACK SHEEP IS ON SALE FOR ONLY $.99 FOR A LIMITED TIME.
Or read it for FREE!! It's now in Kindle Unlimited
AMAZON US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M0HNM8R
AMAZON UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01M0HNM8R

 *Pre-Order BECOMING BLACK, the prequel to LITTLE BLACK BOOK, today!

Once upon a time, Jane Jetson took my virginity. And in that time, I gave all of me to a woman I trusted. But things aren’t always what they seem, and sometimes giving gets you a ton of grief.
My name’s Sebastian and this is my story.
It’s not a love story or a sweet fairytale. It’s the story of how a boy became a man. Of how innocence was stained with unforgiving sin, and sex became my weapon. This is the story of me, and how I became BLACK.


 

The BLOW HOLE ROCK HARD Box Set

★ ★★ ★ANNOUNCEMENT! ★ ★★ ★ A year ago, I published Having Hope, the final book in the Blow Hole series. Today I celebrate finishing that series with a limited time box set.
As a thank you from me for all the joy you guys have given me over the last four years, I'm setting this box set for only $1.99 for the first 48 hours.
  THAT'S 5 BOOKS FOR $1.99!!! 
  Playing Patience, Perfecting Patience, Finding Faith, Convincing Constance, and Having Hope.
Also, for the first time ever, I'm releasing something in the KU program. So those of you with Kindle Unlimited, get to reading!
  THANK YOU!!! I can't express my gratitude to you guys for everything.
Get your copy of THE BLOW HOLE ROCK HARD BOX SET today!  
 
AMAZON US AMAZON UK  The entire BLOW HOLE series together for a limited time box set! Follow the boys of the rock band, BLOW HOLE (Zeke, Finn, Tiny, & Chet), as they find out there's more to life than just sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll.
There's nothing sexier than a bad boy who becomes tame for the woman he loves, and it takes some special women to tame these boys!

USA TODAY BESTSELLER Playing Patience
Perfecting Patience
Finding Faith
Convincing Constance
Having Hope

"Breathtaking, heart-wrenching, and beautiful." ~Prisoners of Print
"This was one of the best books I've read this year." ~Ana's Attic Book Blog
"The moments of beauty and tenderness interspersed throughout a story of such cruelty, emotional turmoil, and heartache will remain with you for a long time to come." ~Totally Booked Blog
 

BLACK SHEEP RELEASE DAY!

BLACK SHEEP IS LIVE!!

Ever since the day I was dropped at her family’s door HUNGRY, DIRTY, and TORN, I’ve wanted her. But to taint her perfect skin with my black touch would be a SIN. So I made a pact with myself— NEVER TOUCH NICOLE PALMER. However, when she returns home from college, she’s different, and I’m not sure I can trust myself to keep my pact. I can’t submit to her TEMPTATION no matter how sweetly she begs because she’s the GOLDEN CHILD and I’m the BLACK SHEEP.
GET YOUR COPY OF BLACK SHEEP TODAY!
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M0HNM8R
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01M0HNM8R
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1155970602...
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/black-sheep-20
BN: Coming soon!
ADD BLACK SHEEP ON GOODREADS!

Tabatha is hosting a Facebook party with a group of some of your favorite authors. Join the party HERE.
FOR MORE GIVEAWAY OPPORTUNITES/STALK TABATHA VARGOTABATHA ON AMAZONFOLLOW TABATHA LIKE TABATHATWEET WITH TABATHAJOIN TABATHA'S MAIL LIST BE A WICKED BITCH!

HEAVEN AND HELL. I’d crossed the holy pinnacle and entered a place full of softness, light, and beauty, but while her hands on my skin felt like a miracle, I also felt like my flesh was being ripped from my body. Irrational fear struck me deep. Nicole would never hurt me—at least not physically. Mentally, she’d fucked me up over the last seven years, but she didn’t know she was doing it. Still, her mouth was heaven, and the devil didn’t belong in Heaven—I didn’t belong in Paradise. I knew that, but my brain ceased all functions the minute my lips touched hers. I was beyond all rational thinking.My lips brushed against hers. Once. Twice. Before I moved in for more, losing myself in her so completely, I forgot about her hands on me. I forgot she was touching my scars inside and out—soothing them and breaking them open again all at the same time. Her lips made me forget all the promises I’d made to myself over the years—made me forget about the pact I’d made with myself. Never touch Nicole Palmer.Each strike of her hot breath against my cheek was like an electric shock to my body,and I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. Her frame felt even smaller than it looked in my grasp when I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me. She was soft against my hardness, limp in my arms as she let go with me. I’d never felt anything like it. Usually, I pinned a girl’s arms above her head to keep her from touching me. Typically,I took control and remained in power, but when my tongue met hers, everything inside me exploded. Her soft, cautious touch changed, and she clawed at me like a wildcat, tugging at my shirt and pulling me to her as if she couldn’t get close enough. She couldn’t. She’d never be close enough.And while her sudden movements and touches were freaking me out, I wanted more. I wanted to feel her all around me—beneath me—inside me, lighting all the dark places where I hid my feelings for her—all the dark places where the memories and monsters lived. Her fingers no longer scared me … they fueled me, forcing my black memories to the forefront and allowing her to slowly destroy each one. She took away the pain and cleared my mind in the strangest, most shocking way. She tasted like sugar, like melted candy on my tongue as I savored her. My craving for her, the one I’d tamed over the years, grew, as I pulled her to me and thrust my hips. Seeking relief, I rubbed against her, her body feeling better than anything I’d ever felt … even with our clothes between us. I wanted her. Hell, I’d always wanted her. Over the years, in my mind,every girl I’d climbed inside had been Nicole.My Nicole.The only girl to ever tame me, and she was clueless about it. She was leaving me,and I wasn’t taking it well. I hadn’t been okay with the situation since the day she got her acceptance letter to Juilliard. She was a beautiful dancer, one with grace and limbs that went for days, but knowing she was going to New York alone left a sick feeling in my gut. I couldn’t be there for her. I couldn’t protect her from the sick and demented fucks in the world. I’d go wild thinking about the terrible things that could happen to her while she was hundreds of miles away from me. And while I knew how badly she wanted Juilliard, I also knew how badly I wanted her. How badly the desire to keep her safe burned through me on a daily basis. She reached between us, palming me through my jeans. Stopping my thoughts completely, her touch caused me to release an agonizing growl into her mouth. I’d had women … too many, actually, but none of them had ever touched me this way. Their fingers had never graced my dick, no matter how badly I wanted it. My mind would never allow it. It was different with Nicole. It had always been different with her. My fingers covered hers, pressing her palm harder against me as I thrust myself into her hand, seeking what I knew I could never have with her. Every second I touched her, I darkened her with my shadowed sin. Clarity broke through my lust and slammed into me. Tension crawled down my back, tightening my spine and making my entire body stiffen. It was wrong. Everything we were doing was wrong. Her mother and father had taken me in, made me a part of their perfect family, and given me a life I would’ve never gotten without them. If it weren’t for them, I would’ve grown up on the streets, begging for food with only the clothes on my back, and this was how I was repaying them. By touching their only daughter. By tainting her with my blackness. The broken sickness I was born with could be contagious, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was pass it to her—contaminate her perfection. If I ever climbed inside her, she’d never be the same. Her light … I’d extinguish it, bringing her into my darkness. That was the last thing I wanted since Nicole’s light had always been a beacon for me, leading me to do the right thing when the right thing was the last thing I wanted to do. Bad decisions were in my blood—passed down from a father who ruined me—and touching Nicole was the worst decision I’d ever made. The addiction was instant, and I knew one day I’d overdose on her. Just like my father and his heroin except with more pleasure and more pain.I pulled back, my body and heart feeling her loss the second I pushed her away. “Fuck!” I cursed, as I gasped and rubbed roughly at my lips, trying to rid myself of her taste. I’d never be able to walk away with her flavor on my lips. My craving would never let it happen. She moved toward me,and I held my hand out to keep her away. I was too weak for her. I’d always been too weak for her. Her big blue eyes stared up at me, full of trust and lust. Her white blond hair spilled from her bun, curtaining her beautiful face and skimming her flawless skin. She was everything, and I was nothing. The two could never mix. Rage and disgust slammed into me.How could I touch her?How could I taint her perfection with my sin?“That shouldn’t have happened,” I breathed, trying to catch the air she’d stolen away from me. “Why not?” she asked, her cheeks flushed and her lips reddened from my rough kisses. I hated myself for marring her delicate flesh with my touch. She was too good, too perfect for anyone, especially me. “Because I don’t want you that way!” I yelled, not thinking of who else could hear our conversation. It was the biggest fucking lie I’d ever told...

BLACK SHEEP PROLOGUE & CHAPTER ONE

COMING SEPTEMBER 20THPROLOGUE TYSON PAYNE, AGE 12 {Seven Years Ago}


The motel we were squatting in let us pay by the week and was the nicest one we’d ever stayed in. Sure, there were still bugs and rotting shag carpeting, but at least the towels and sheets were clean-ish, and the place didn’t smell like puke and old cheese.
We’d been there two weeks, which was a record for us, and in all that time, I had only heard gunshots once. Most nights, I didn’t sleep, but at this motel, I knew I could since the door even had a lock that worked.
“That’s it, Ty, do what Daddy says,” my father muttered over rotting teeth.
I once saw a picture of my father when he was younger. He looked a lot like me with a bright white smile, a freshly shaven face, and short, dark hair. Now, you could barely see his dirty face since his beard was long and scraggly, and his white smile was a thing of the past.
The needle pierced his aging skin, hitting the target vein we were going for, and I pressed on the end of the syringe the way he’d taught me, pushing the drugs into his veins.
Once the syringe was empty, I sat back on the rough, plaid loveseat and watched as my father relaxed into the molding cushion with a sigh. The effects were instant, and his eyes slowly closed to dark slits in his dirty face. The side of his mouth lifted as he attempted a smile and failed.
“Good boy,” he slurred. “That’s a good boy.”
I’d done this many times, but this time was different. This time, after I stuck him, I waited until he was roaming in the clouds with a relaxed smile on his face. Then I put another tiny chunk of heroin on the spoon. I added a sprinkle of water before I held the lighter beneath the spoon and watched the powdery chunk melt into the liquid, turning the clear bits of water brown. Picking up the needle, I filled it once again, sucking the liquid out of the spoon.
His eyes were closed, and his skin was flushed from his high. Once he was totally still, I squeezed his arm to make the vein pop once again. I stuck him a second time in the same spot, filling his body to the brink with his favorite poison.
I knew what I was doing. I was aware of what would happen with too much. I’d once seen a man do too much. He lay on the sidewalk outside our old room and foamed at the mouth. An hour after he died, the police came, and a man wrapped him in black plastic.
My father would surely die from the amount I dumped in him, but I didn’t care. I wanted away from him—away from it all.
He was dying a slow death, and I was the one who killed him. At twelve years old, I shouldn’t have had the knowledge of how to shoot someone up with heroin, but I did. I knew many things a child my age shouldn’t know—things they didn’t teach me at school on the days when I could make it.
I’d seen the darkest of the dark—the lowest of the low.
Drugs.
Sex.
The disgust of the world.
I’d lived with those people most of my life.
I’d shot my father up so many times over the last two years of my life. He was always too high—too broken to even try anymore. It was up to me to continue his high, and so I did.
Between his fingers.
Between his toes.
Wherever was convenient.
I’d stick him, and he’d melt away, leaving me at peace for a little while.
Peace.
All I ever wanted was peace.
I was twelve. I wanted to go outside and play. Maybe go to school every day like I was supposed to instead of only a few times a week. I wanted the normal life of a child, but instead, I was Frank’s punching bag. Frank’s everything. His hands were always on me in one way or another,and when he didn’t have the money for his drugs, he would hand me over to others as payment.
I was dirty and broken—tortured and abused—and if something didn’t change soon, I knew I’d be found dead in a back alley somewhere one day. They were murdering me mentally with every touch of their filthy fingers. So much, in fact, that I’d considered killing myself instead of my father. Not only was I weak, but apparently, I was a coward, as well.
The things they did to me would never be forgotten—the mental and physical scars would always remain—tarnishing my soul and keeping me away from heaven. Because of my father and his ‘friends,’ I’d never know happiness or goodness. It didn’t matter how far away I got from all the terrible things in my life, I knew the memories would continue to haunt my dreams at night, waking me in a panic and leaving me breathless with gripping fear.
No more.
I couldn’t survive that way anymore, and if I could, I didn’t want to. It was either him or me.
I stood from the loveseat and stared down at him. His skin turned blue before my eyes, and he began to shiver. Black eyes that matched my own rolled inside his head,and his breathing became slow and labored, melting away with each exhale until his chest stopped rising and the pulse on the side of this neck stopped flickering. Only then did I release the breath I was holding.
I couldn’t find it in myself to be upset that he was gone, and that wasn’t normal. As a matter of fact, I didn’t feel anything but relief when I looked down at his dead, motionless body.
Mentally, I was a sick boy. Even I was smart enough to know that, but my robotic ways were what saved me for most of my life. I couldn’t die from grief if I didn’t feel the things they were doing to me. I wouldn’t crumple with sadness if I couldn’t feel it. It was my only defense against men who were much larger than  I was—much stronger.
But now, my father was gone, and maybe, just maybe I could come alive again.
It was over.
All of it was over.
An hour later, I called for help. He was long gone by the time help got there, and I stood to the side as they pulled my father’s body from the dirty loveseat and zipped him inside of a black body bag.
I didn’t blink when they moved my father’s dead body, and I knew I was in shock. Not shock because he was dead, but shock because I’d killed him.
I was a murderer, but only I knew that. I’d keep that secret for the rest of my life. 
The police had me pack my meager belongings,and I left with them, leaving behind the disgust that was my life. I didn’t know where I’d end up. With no one to turn to, I’d probably be homeless. Nothing was set in stone, but I didn’t care. All I knew was I’d never get touched again.
Frank Payne, my father, was no more.
No more beatings.
No more being fondled at two in the morning.
No more anything.
I was free.  
Regardless of where I landed after the storm, any place was sure to be better than where I was.
Peace was mine for a few weeks as I was tossed from one home to another, all much nicer than any place I’d ever lived. I bounced from school to school, but I didn’t care. At least I was able to go. I’d never been more excited for homework and school assignments.
Finally, after weeks of foster homes, an old friend of my father’s was found, and he agreed to take me in. After weeks of feeling freedom, terror and devastation settled over me. Any friend of my father’s was sure to be just like every other ‘friend’ I’d met. Running away and living on the streets was a very big possibility. I refused to live the life I was living before. I’d kill myself before another person touched me.
I barely took a breath on the entire ride over to my new home, but I watched from the backseat as the dirty city streets becameclean neighborhoods. I couldn’t imagine anyone my father knew living in such a nice place, but I didn’t let that deter me from the caution and fear that roosted in my center.
The car pulled up to a two-story brick ranch, and I swallowed the nerves that threatened to choke me. One thing I’d learned in my life was that looks could be deceiving. Just because a person or a place looked nice didn’t mean they were nice. I refused to let my guard down no matter what.
The lawn was green and rolling like something I’d once seen on TV. A flowerbed filled with happy yellow daisies surrounded the mailbox at the end of the drive. Hanging plants and wind chimes hung from the large porch, sending their sweet music into the air around us.
The place was a home.
Maybe my home.
It all depended on what I found on the inside. The yard was a shell—a show for outsiders—but I knew the kinds of evil things that hid themselves behind beauty.
I kept my head down as we entered the house, my shoulders stiff with anxiety and fear. My eyes remained glued to my feet as I took step after step into an unknown territory. My heart drilled inside my chest,and my palms were sweaty. The urge to run and hide was there.
What if whatever was hiding behind the elaborate wooden door was worse than the life I’d murdered?
What if I was trapped and couldn’t run away?
I began to shake, the emotions overcoming me so quickly that I was afraid I’d shut down. I was drowning, my air being cut from my lungs and sucking the life out of me.
But once we settled into the center of the entranceway, I was welcomed by a friendly voice—a voice different from any other I’d heard. The soft manly tone with a hint of happiness and joy invoked hope and welcome, and somehow, it shocked the fear and anxiety from me.
“Hello, Tyson. I’m Mr. Palmer. It’s very nice to meet you, buddy.”
The treatment I’d endured over the years had taught me not to trust, and even though I was feeling okay with the sounds around me, I didn’t even trust myself. The uncertainty of the situation was there, even if I was starting to relax.
I didn’t look up at him, but still, the friendly man continued to speak to me.
I nodded and shook my head in response as he told me about my new room and new school—as he told me about how great it was going to be to have me there.
I wasn’t fooled.
If nothing in life was ever good, how could anything in life ever be great?
I didn’t bother to look up as the man introduced his wife and their son, their voices just as kind and welcoming as his. But when I heard her tiny voice for the first time, something inside me sparked and came to life.
It was if a bolt of electricity had struck me—shaking me so intensely that my insides scrambled and I no longer knew which way was up and which way was down.
The robotic boy I’d lived as suddenly felt something deep inside that had nothing to do with fear and pain. A light had shone down on me, heating my insides and leaving me breathless in a whole new way. For the first time in my life, I felt real contentment and delight—I felt at ease.
“And my name’s Nicole,” she’d said.
Her voice was soft and sweet … welcoming. It reminded me of the wind chimes on the front porch—sweet music to my ears.  
My head rolled back on my neck so I could look at her, and when I did, my entire world shifted. The boy I’d always been changed with that brief encounter. I’d always lived for the second, worrying only aboutmyself and my survival, but looking back me was an angel—an angel I knew I’d spend the rest of my life trying to protect.
She was small and pale. Her long blond hair was loosely braided and hung over her right shoulder. Blue, sparkling eyes glittered back at me, and she was smiling as if she was happy to see me.
No one had ever looked at me like that before, and a feeling I didn’t understand spread through my body, shocking me and burning differently from any cigarette that had ever touched my skin.
I’d known darkness—I’d touched it with my bare hands. The abuse had been my life for as long as I had memories. I’d been hit, burned, manhandled, and touched in places I was just learning the names to, but once I met Nicole Palmer, I learned a new meaning of the word torture.
I never knew torment could be so sweet.


ONE NICOLE PALMER {PRESENT DAY}

I’d loved Tyson Payne since the day he became a part of my family. His father, a friend of my dad’s from high school, had dropped dead from an overdose, leaving his twelve-year-old son with no one to care for him. My father was contacted as next of kin for some reason, and he and my mother gladly took Tyson in.
He came to our home with his head down, beaten and defeated by life. Dirt smudged his olive-toned skin, and his clothes were tattered and too small for his growing frame. His hair was dark as night and hung long over his face. He was scary, but when he looked up and his midnight eyes connected with mine, I saw so much more.
I saw what Tyson really was.
He was beautiful. The way a jagged icicle ready to fall and pierce your heart could be beautiful. He was tragic, with heartbreaking stories that hid behind his gaze and taunted my curious nature. To know everything about Tyson was my ultimate goal but getting past his steel exterior proved to be fruitless.
And that was our life.
From the time he arrived when I was eleven, we grew up together, him taking his place in our family without allowing himself to actually become a part of the family. He’d never said so, but he always thought of himself as the outsider, and he took that role to heart. He never allowed my parents to do much of anything for him yet pushed to do everything he could for them.
He was the shadow of our family, always walking a few steps behind and darkening the halls of our modest home.
Quiet and coarse.
Hard and soft.
He was everything to me, and the more our minds and bodies matured, the more diverse he became—changing from a scrawny boy into a large, beautiful man before my eyes.
A bad boy.
That was what the girls at Bennett High School called him, and I could see where they got the name since he was in the principal’s office at least twice a week for fighting. I’d been told a lot of his fighting had to do with me and defending my honor, but I was sure his issues with being touched also contributed.
It was strange.
At home, he was respectful and obedient—always kind and quiet—always willing to whatever he needed to do to please my parents, but at school, he was wild and untamed—untouchable—uncontrollable and mean. He walked the hallways broody and angry—unwilling to take any drama from anyone—and people responded by giving him respect.  
By the time we were sixteen, the girls had adored him and his dark, exotic looks, and the guys wanted to be him. He kept his hair longer, his black eyes hidden just beneath his overgrown strands, and a cocky secure grin that the ladies loved. I hated to admit it to myself then, but I loved everything about him too.
Usually, I was immune to such things, but he called to me without even speaking. It was the danger that squatted beneath his olive skin and the mystery of his mind. His thoughts were his own, and he never spoke them freely. It lent to an elusive quality about him. He was my enigma and the only thing I’d ever wanted for myself. 
For seven years, I’d tried to get him to open up to me. I’d tried to know him in a way that I was sure no one else had ever known him, but he would leap away every time I got close to seeing his light, leaving me breathless at every turn and lost in the darkness he left behind.  
One thing I was sure of was that things had happened to Tyson … bad things. I’d once overheard my parents talking about some of the stories the police had told them when they dropped him at our home. The words scars and burns were mentioned.
“How could someone do something like that to such a sweet boy,” my mother had asked with tears in her voice.
“I don’t know, honey, but we’ll make it better. We’ll give him a better life,” my father had responded.
I’d sat on the bottom step just outside the living room when I was supposed to be asleep, and I’d silently cried for Tyson and all the secrets he held. I wanted to hug him—hold him to me and make it all better, but I knew it was an impossibility since Tyson refused to let people touch him.
His repulsion of being touched was something my family learned about and adapted to from the very beginning. My mother had once tried to hug him, and he freaked out. The older he got, the more he allowed touching, but only from my mom, and usually it was something as simple as a hand on his forearm that went along with a smile.
 There was no doubt about it; Tyson had a dark past … one that made him black on the inside. He was a contrast to my family. The shadow to our light. A smudge to our clean exterior. An exotic statue of a boy sitting at our dinner table with his dark hair and black eyes. He clashed with our blue and blond genetics.
Even though he pulled away, only letting bits and pieces of himself free over the years, he always had his eyes on me. I could feel them penetrate my clothing and leave my young skin hot and flushed. Teaching me the ways of desire without even a single touch. But I’d never caught him staring. Whenever I’d look up at him, his eyes would be elsewhere, and the strange hold he held over me would be broken.
His dark eyes were a thing of dreams. They were so dark, in fact, that you could barely distinguish the irises from the pupil. His ebony hair remained untamed and unruly, falling across his perfect brow, begging me to smooth it away. Begging me to lose my fingers in its silky strands.
But his mouth captured my attention the most. It was wide with a full set of plump lips that lived in a perpetual frown. I’d gone to bed many nights thinking what those lips against mine would feel like. And the first time I’d touched my young, untried body, I was envisioned his mouth.
Tyson Payne.
I was in love with him, and he was aware of my emotions. He had to be. We’d essentially grown up together, him joining my household at the median of my hormonal growth and ushering me to the peak of womanhood. But even though he was there, acting the part of my mother and father’s extra son, he had never joined our family.
Not really.
He remained an outsider, brimming along the edges of our lives while living under the same roof and abiding by the same rules. That was fine by me. If he had become more, then my feelings would be wrong. My yearning for his body and mind would be frowned upon, and I’d live with a never-ending sickness in my stomach.  
Tyson wasn’t my brother. I didn’t need another brotherly figure, and I certainly didn’t want the boy I’d longed for to take on that role.
No.
I wanted so much more from Tyson.
So much more.
And I got more, in the form of a protector. Once we arrived in high school and boys started taking an interest in me, Tyson stepped forward and took control of the situation. And after a few run-ins, no one even looked at me wrong, much less said anything. Everyone was afraid of Tyson and the threat in his eyes and stocky shoulders.
Everyone but me.
I could never be afraid because somehow, I always knew he would never hurt me. At least not physically. I was untouchable to him,and he made it clear to everyone who knew me that I was off-limits.
It thrilled me in a way, even if I barely dated growing up. Knowing that Tyson cared enough to protect me was enough to get me through for many years.
Until it wasn’t enough anymore.
I always wanted more.
“You’re not going,” Tyson muttered from my doorway, his thick arms crossed over his chest.
He hadn’t always been so large and muscular. Tattoos hadn’t always littered his arms, but over the years, he had made the gym his home. Most of his friends were men long out of high school who worked at a local tattoo shop called The Blind Tiger.  
I wasn’t surprised that he would gravitate toward those kinds of people. Tyson loved art, and he had always been fascinated with tattoos. His drawings and paintings littered the walls of his room.
Portraits of people I’d never seen and dirty landscapes. Jagged tattoo designs and words in a unique font. There was even an occasional beautiful picture of something from nature. It was a mix of everything, all hand drawn or painted by him.
With the approval of my father, he picked up a tattoo gun at eighteen, and he hadn’t put it down since. It seemed like every time I saw him, he had new ink on his body, and I secretly longed to see the ink that wasn’t visible since I knew his chest and back were also covered in ink.
I chuckled to myself before turning to face him. “I hate to tell you this, but I’m going, Ty. I’m almost packed and ready,” I said, motioning to my open suitcase.
Clothes spilled from the sides as I folded another shirt and shoved it on top.
The thought of leaving him was killing me, but Juilliard was the next step in my life. I’d known since my freshman year of high school that I’d end up in New York. My parents wanted me to follow in their footsteps and attend The College of Charleston, but I wanted to dance. Being accepted into Juilliard was a thing of dreams, and I couldn’t pass that up. Especially considering they only accepted twelve girls.
I hadn’t thought about how hard it was going to be to walk away from everything I knew—to walk away from Tyson—leaving him alone in Charleston with hordes of women climbing all over him.  
Tyson had graduated the year before, but he hadn’t gone to college, even though my parents offered to pay for everything. My dad pushed for a prestigious art school in Atlanta, but Tyson gratefully refused. Instead, he’d gone to work before he even graduated high school, filling his days after school with motor oil and exhaust working on cars at a local garage.  
A few of the guys he worked with at the garage also worked at a local tattoo parlor called The Blind Tiger, and once they got to know him, he became their apprentice of sorts. He learned his way around a tattoo gun while sweeping up their shop at night after slinging tires and spark plugs after school. He’d come home exhausted, shower, and crash. I rarely saw him once he started working, and I hated it.
The money was good at the garage, and it wasn’t long before he was moving out of our house and into an apartment down the road from our neighborhood. Still, my parents had instilled enough respect in him over his six years living with us that he knew Sunday dinners were a must. And every time we sat down for our family dinner, he was across the table from me, touching me with his eyes and leaving me breathless.
Once he moved out, I spent the whole week anticipating that one meal. His leaving our home was hard on me, and somehow, Sunday became a day of relief. Seeing him made everything better, but going to school in New York meant no more family dinners.
No more innocent glances across the table over meatloaf and mashed potatoes. No more brushing by him in the kitchen while we cleaned the dinner dishes and catching the faint scent of his cologne mixed with motor oil. It sickened me knowing how much I was going to miss a boy who didn’t seem all that concerned with seeing me much.  
“It’s not safe, Nicole. Not for a girl like you.”
Tossing my favorite shorts into the piling suitcase, I turned with my hands on my hips.
“A girl like me? What exactly makes me so different from every other girl who leaves home and goes to college?” Anger rushed over my cheeks, heating them.
I usually didn’t mind his overprotective ways, but he was suddenly making me feel like a child—like I wasn’t just a year younger than he was. He was treating me as if I wasn’t old enough to live on my own—like I wasn’t strong enough to be on my own the way he was.
I didn’t want him looking at me like young Nikki, the little girl he grew up with. I wanted him to put me on his level because without him seeing me as the woman I was blooming into, I knew I would never get the more I so desperately longed for from Tyson.
He sighed in aggravation and looked up at the ceiling. “You’re taking it the wrong way.”
“Am I? Then would you like to elaborate? Explain to me why it’s safe for every other eighteen-year-old to go off to college, but it’s not safe for me. Do you think I’m stupid, Tyson? Do you think I don’t know how to take care of myself?”
“Jesus,” he growled, running his long fingers through his hair the way he did when he was aggravated. “That’s not what I meant, Nicole. I just don’t understand why you had to pick a school so far away when there are plenty of good ones right here in Charleston.”
“Julliard’s my dream, Ty, you know that. You’ve always known that.”
But you’re my dream, too.
The words whispered through my mind.
He nodded. “I know you love dancing, and you’re amazing at it. It’s just ...” He stopped, his fingers going through his thick hair once more. My body was warming with his words. It wasn’t often Tyson complimented anyone, much less me.
Then he spoke again, his words begging.
“Don’t go,” he said so softly I almost didn’t hear him.
The room grew thick and warm. Whenever Tyson showed even the smallest amount of emotion toward me, something happened inside. Something light and happy. Something that longed for all the things I’d spent the last seven years of my life dreaming of.
Tyson cared for me. He would never admit it, but I could feel it. It lurked just beneath his moody outer layer, but it was there. It was the same yearning I had felt over the years.
Moving across the room toward him, his body stiffened as I approached. His response to my possible touch hurt my feelings, but I tried my hardest to understand his reasons. Even if I didn’t know the details of his past, I knew it must have been pretty serious.
My arm brushed against his when I closed the door to my room with a click. There were things I needed to say, and the last thing I wanted was for my family to hear.
Tyson didn’t move, but a red flush filled his dark cheeks. His black eyes glittered down at me with a ferocity that I’d never had directed my way before. Only the boys at school who attempted to date me or the ones who were hurtful to me in any wayhad received the expression he was showering me with.
“What’s the real reason you want me to stay, Tyson?” I asked, knowing he would never give me the answer I desired.
His shoulders squared, and his muscles bunched beneath his shirt. “What do you mean? I told you, it’s not safe for you to be there alone.”
I shook my head and strands of my blond hair fell from my messy bun. “I’ll be perfectly safe there, and you know it. Dad would never send me somewhere unsafe. Plus, the school has all kinds of safety measures put into place for students. With my schedule, I won’t have any time to get into trouble anyway.”
He swallowed, his thick throat working up and down and making my mouth water to taste the dark skin above his collar.
“There are plenty of schools here,” he repeated his argument.
“I understand that, but I want Juilliard. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get accepted?” I moved closer, as if I were approaching a rabid pit bull. Then I went for it. I let my fingers brush his forearm, prompting him to pull his arm away. “I can’t let this opportunity pass, but I’ll come back to you, Tyson. I promise.”
He practically leaped away from me, his fingers once again getting lost in his dark strands.
“This has nothing to do with me.” He chuckled sarcastically as if my words were far off from their target. “I’m just saying I’d hate to see you run off to a big city and get yourself killed. It would destroy your mom and dad.”
I felt tears rush to my eyes with his hardhearted words. He cared about me, but he’d always met my feelings with resistance. I wasn’t sure what made me think it would be any different now. Maybe because I was leaving for New York. Maybe because in a way, this was our goodbye, and I knew it would be months before I had to face him again.
All I wanted was for him to admit just once that he cared about me. Just once, I wanted him to treat me as something more than Mr. and Mrs. Palmer’s daughter—a fragile being he felt the need to protect. Just once, I wanted him to treat me the way he treated other girls.
Tyson never had a girlfriend, but he did have girls. Everyone around school knew his reputation, and I hated when I heard him whispered about through the halls. I’d only seen him with one girl, and it was by accident once at a party.
Still, seeing him pin some chick’s arms to the wall above her head while he plunged his tongue down her throat was enough for me. My heart had been broken since, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew girls wanted him. They wanted his dark looks and tall, muscular frame. They wanted him for sex, and he gave them exactly what they wanted.
It sickened me to think of him with other girls. I wondered if he let them touch him or if he pinned all their arms above their heads. It left a dark shadow on my soul every time the memory of that night at the party entered my mind, but thankfully, I’d never ran into something so heartbreaking again. Even if I knew it was happening every time he went out with his boys for the night.
It didn’t matter, though. Let him keep pretending nothing was between us. Let him act the part of the unattached playboyfor a little longer. Soon, I would be on a plane to New York, and I could grieve his loss then, knowing it would be a while before I saw him again.
Going to school and leaving it all behind was something I had to do. I couldn’t stay in Charleston, following Tyson around like a lovesick puppy. I needed to spread my wings. Expand my mind. I needed to get away from everything that was holding me back from life and let loose. And I needed to do it without Tyson watching my every move. Without Tyson blocking every guy who started my way.
He didn’t want to admit his feelings for me. He wanted to pretend he didn’t want me while making sure no one else could have me. That wasn’t going to be the case once I was in the Big Apple. I was going to flirt and date. I was going to live the life I’d missed while I spent all my time dwelling over Tyson.
It was going to be great.
“I assure you I won’t get myself killed. Plus, Amber’s going to New York, too. We’ll stick together.”
Amber Goodwin had been my best friend since sixth grade. She was also the only person in the world who knew how deep my love for Tyson ran. Over the years, we would have sleepovers where we’d spill our hearts about the loves of our lives. Hers was different every few months, but mine was always Tyson.
We were total opposites. Where I was blond with blue eyes, Amber was a brunette with brown eyes. She was taller than I was and had an amazing extension in dance class, but while she loved dancing, her passion was science. She was the smartest person I knew, next to my dad, and I’d always known she was going to go amazing places in her life.
Growing up, we did everything together. From Barbiesto boys—failed makeup attempts to new fads—we were inseparable, and the thought of ending up in two different states for college wasn’t something we ever wanted to talk about.
We had received our acceptance letters on the same day—mine to Julliard and hers to Columbia University. After years of taking ballet together, we were moving into the world together. There wasn’t another person I’d want to share such an amazing adventure with.
It worked out since Columbia and Julliard were only twenty minutes apart. We wouldn’t be alone in a big city since we’d have each other.
“Oh my God, Nicole. She’s worse off than you are,” he scoffed. “You can still change schools. There’s time. You’re staying here. Here, in this house where I know you’ll be safe. Here, where I can—”
He bit off his words.
“Where you can what, Tyson? Where you can hound me and every guy who even looks my way? Where you can watch me like a hawk but never lay a finger on me?”
My heart was drilling into my ribs, slamming into the bone so hard it hurt.
“I have needs, too, Tyson. I’m so sick of feeling alone all the time.”
He huffed and shook his head. “You’ve never been alone.”
I noticed he didn’t mention my needs. He knew exactly what I was talking about.
We had never spoken so freely before. Mostly because I’d always been kind of shy and quiet, but also because I had a deep fear of pushing Tyson away.
Well, I didn’t need to worry about that so much now because I was the one walking away. I was the one leaving, and even though he was never going to admit it, he hated it.
“I’ll tell you what,” I started. “I’ll stay. I’ll transfer schools and start next semester at some local university but only on one condition.”
His head popped up, his black eyes glittering with distrust. “What condition?”
I swallowed my nerves, the emotions choking me so hard I felt like I was going to gag. “Tell me how you feel about me. Tell me you want me and I’ll stay.”
His dark eyes widened, and his indrawn breath cut through the stillness around us. Everything went silent, and the sound of the clock on my wall at our side blasted through the room like it was in speaker.
I held my breath as I waited for him to say the words I’d always longed to hear, but instead, his lips crept up in a smug grin,and he started to laugh.
“This is stupid,” he said, leaning his back against the door and crossing his arms. “You know I care about you. You’re like a little sister.”
The air was knocked from my lungs as if I had been punched in the ribs. His words burned in my chest, leaving my heart feeling hollow and my stomach feeling nauseated. He had never referred to me as his sister. Actually, it was kind of disgusting considering how things had been between us over the years.
The secret glances.
The underlying emotions that we dared not speak of.
His words were an insult to the feelings I had spent the last seven years developing, and I wasn’t going to let him leave my room until he acknowledged his real feelings for me. Until he took back the words that had hurt me so badly.
I moved closer, and he watched me beneath long, black lashes.
I held my hand out to touch his arm, and his body went tense.
“Nicole,” he warned.
“Shhh. Let me,” I said, moving my hand even closer. “You know me, Tyson. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
His eyes connected with mine, his tense jaw making the muscles pop in his cheeks.
And then I was touching him, and he wasn’t stopping me. My fingers looked pale against his dark skin when I pressed my hand to his arm. His hard muscle jerked beneath my touch, and I heard his deep inhale.
“I’m nothing like your sister. Take it back,” I said, letting my fingers work themselves cautiously up his inked sleeve.
Courage I’d never had before raged through me. I was leaving for a while. I wouldn’t have to see his face for a bit.
What was there to lose?
“Nicole,” he growled in warning.
“Yes, Tyson?” My words were slathered in innocence.
I didn’t stop.
The pads of my fingertips roamed up his arm until my hand was resting against his chest. His breathing accelerated, his chest moving up and down with his breaths. He was so hot against my palm. Hot and hard, and I wanted to remove the fabric between his skin and mine and feel all of him.
“Don’t,” he barked, moving me to the side and stepping away from the door where he leaned.
But I wasn’t finished trying. I still had thirty minutes before I left for the airport. I still had time to change things with Tyson before I left and went months without seeing his brooding, beautiful face.
I followed him, my fingers tangling in the soft fabric of his T-shirt.
“Take it back, Tyson. Admit that I’m nothing like a sister to you. Admit that you think about me the way I think about you. That you touch yourself while you think about me the same way I touch myself and think about you.”
I felt the blush on my cheeks, but I kept pressing and pulling on his shirt, afraid that once he slipped from my room,he would never come near me again. I’d gone too far. I’d touched him and said things that I could never take back.
“I’m in love with you, Tyson. I have been since the very first moment I saw you.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, his fingers going to his silky black strands once more.
“Did you hear me?” I asked desperately. “I said I…”
His large hand went over my mouth briefly before he tugged it away and rubbed his palms together. He looked at me with an expression I’d never seen pass over his face before. He looked desperate and afraid. He looked genuinely scared of me.
I’d never seen Tyson terrified of anything.
Never.
BLACK SHEEP IS COMING SEPTEMBER 20TH! BE SURE TO 1-CLICK YOUR COPY WHEN IT RELEASES!
ADD BLACK SHEEP TO YOUR TBR ON GOODREADS !
JOIN THE FACEBOOK PARTY!

BLACK SHEEP COVER & RELEASE DAY REVEAL

BLACK SHEEPA sexy, forbidden, standalone full of darkness, light, and love RELEASING SEPTEMBER 20TH by Tabatha Vargo   Genre: Romance, New Adult, ContemporaryBLACK SHEEPEver since the day I was dropped at her family’s door hungry, dirty, and torn,I’ve wanted her.But to taint her perfect skin with my black touch would be a sin.So I made a pact with myself—NEVER TOUCH NICOLE PALMER.However, when she returns home from college, she’s different, and I’m not sure I can trust myself to keep my pact. I can’t submit to her temptationno matter how sweetly she begs because she’s the golden childand I’m the Black Sheep.   SIGN UP FOR THE BLACK SHEEP RELEASE DAY BLITZ! ADD BLACK SHEEP ON GOODREADS! JOIN THE BLACK SHEEP FACEBOOK RELEASE PARTY!     

$25 GIVEAWAY - HAVING HOPE RELEASE AND EXCERPT

 SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!ENTER TO WIN $25 AT THE END OF THIS POSTTabatha is hosting a HAVING HOPE party in her fan group! Click HERE to become a Wicked Bitch and enter to win a multitude of items ranging from SIGNED BOOKS, AUDIO COPIES, stickers, postcards, bookmarks, jewelry, pens, coffee mugs, and more!  FOR MORE GIVEAWAY OPPORTUNITES/STALK TABATHA VARGO
TABATHA ON AMAZONFOLLOW TABATHA LIKE TABATHATWEET WITH TABATHAJOIN TABATHA'S MAIL LIST  
HAVING HOPENo one’s promised tomorrow. And Chet Rhodes, the drummer of Blow Hole, is all about living for today. Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll ... anything to help him forget his deadly secret and keep him detached. But when he meets Hope, a bitchy brunette with sarcastic wit and a deadly right hook, his carefully constructed defenses break down. For the first time ever, he wants more than a one-night stand. Hope Iverson holds a secret that could potentially destroy everything she's built. Hardened with a short fuse, her past has left her emotionally unavailable. That is until the charismatic drummer for Blow Hole bursts into her life. His smart mouth has the ability to make her smile, and his inked body makes her feel things she’d rather not. But scars leave you changed, and Hope isn’t sure there’s enough of herself left to give. GET YOUR COPY OF HAVING HOPE NOW! ON SALE FOR ONLY $2.99 UNTIL JUNE 30TH! Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01DUVUXR0
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01DUVUXR0...
BN: http://tinyurl.com/hal6oe7
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1126458215
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/having-hope-1 

“Are you ready to get your ass kicked?” she asked over her shoulder with a grin.She pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a black tank, and I had to swallow past the desire that rushed through me. She looked so fucking hot in only her boots, jeans, and a tiny tank. She obviously wasn’t wearing a bra, but with tits like hers, she didn’t have to.My mind went back to the moment she was on stage in only her black sports bra. She was soaked. She was sexy. And for the first time in a couple of days, my cock grew hard. “Let’s see what you got.”I stood to the side as she sat behind my set. I didn’t usually let anyone play my drums, but I trusted Hope with my babies. I’d watched her play. I knew she knew what she was doing, and I also knew she respected her own set and would do the same with mine. She spun the sticks between her fingers, her glassy eyes all over me as she lifted a brow in challenge. And then she brought the sticks down and beat out a fresh rhythm I’d never heard before. It was fast paced and strong, the percussion shaking the stage as she went crazy hitting any and every spot on my set yet still somehow making it sound amazing. Her head fell back, and she closed her eyes as she continued to play, beating the drums unmercifully and turning me on beyond belief. Her arms moved, the small feminine muscles popping out with her movements, making the tattoos on her arms come to life. I couldn’t do this with Hope. I couldn’t let myself get into her. She was turning me on more than any woman had in years. Not since my Blackbird five years earlier.  Women were a dime a dozen in my job. Hell, they were waiting just outside the venue ready and willing to let me fuck them senseless, but I was moving past that bullshit. After everything I’d been through since we started the tour, I needed relief. But I didn’t want it from just anyone.The more I watched Hope play my drums, her arms flying and her eyes closed in ecstasy—the realization came crashing over me. I wanted Hope.  I wanted Hope the way I’d wanted Blackbird for the last five years. Watching her only intensified my craving for her. I wasn’t sure I could control myself. I was feeling better, my painkiller finally doing its job, and my head wasn’t being ripped apart. I could think about more than the pain for once. I could think about Hope and how amazing she’d feel wrapped around me. Wet.Hot.Ready.  Moving from my spot, I moved toward her. Her rhythm moved through me, vibrating my core and making me feel even more alive. I didn’t stop until I was standing right beside her. She kept her eyes closed; playing with so much beautyit was breathtaking. I reached out and took a strand of her hair between my fingers, and the colors blended together when I rubbed my fingers together. Her playing came to an instant halt, and I smirked down at her when her eyes popped open,and one of her sticks fell to the ground at my feet.Sweat dotted the top of her lip, and her cheeks were flushed with pleasure. Her expression was one of happiness and release, and I knew playing did that for her. It did the same for me, but I wanted to give her that look. I wanted to do it with my hands and my mouth … my cock. I moved closer, taking her cheeks in my palms and spending a minute looking at her. I didn’t want it to be like the last time I felt this way. Unlike with my Blackbird, I took the time to remember everything about Hope.I wanted to look at her face. I wanted to look into her eyes and see her when she came apart. It was going to be amazing. She was going to be amazing. We were going to be a match sexually. But before anything could go down between us, we would have to talk about it. I wanted to make sure she understood it would be a one-time thing. Before I moved in, I wanted to be sure that this wouldn’t affect the tour. “What are you doing?” she asked. I didn’t miss the catch in her voice.“I don’t know.”And I didn’t. I didn’t know where this was going or what I was doing. My body was taking control of the situation, and I was letting it happen. I wasn’t much for kissing. I’d probably kissed a handful of women in my time, but Hope’s pouty lips called to me. She was begging me to kiss her without even opening her mouth. I leaned down, ready to taste her, but she placed her palm against my chest and stopped me. “Wait,” she whispered. I shook my head. “No, I suck at waiting.”So I kissed her. Hard. She tasted like the night—liquor and sweetness with a touch of sin. It was wrong to taste her, but I’d never been one to follow the rules. All the boundaries I’d set forth in regards to Hope were being crossed, but when she began to kiss me back, her tongue moving against mine, I didn’t give a fuck about any limitations.  Her mouth opened, and I sucked her tongue into my mouth. Her moan vibrated through me and shot straight to my groin. I felt her pull back, so I pressed for more, capturing her head in my hands and kissing her so deeply that I was losing myself. My head wasn’t pounding anymore, but my heart was. It was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. My blood moved through my body like a freight train, the horns whistling loudly in my ears. I hadn’t felt this kind of excitement for a woman in years. Not since my Blackbird. I couldn’t stop. I wanted more.
  THE ENTIRE BLOW HOLE SERIES IS ON SALE FOR ONLY $0.99 UNTIL JUNE 30TH!Playing Patience
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CIYSEUO
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00CIYSEUO
BN: http://tinyurl.com/jkcbs3x
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/gnw64nt
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id804459953 Perfecting Patience
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E1AVX1A
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00E1AVX1A
BN: http://tinyurl.com/zmhkvcd
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/z7gjwsd
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id804527548 Finding Faith
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00G626JKQ
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00G626JKQ
BN: http://tinyurl.com/jpevuw6
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/h7824q3
iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/zrbh9c5 Convincing Constance
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JX8FVKO
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00JX8FVKO
BN: http://tinyurl.com/gsyag2q
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/jrmth5c
iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/gs993x2      
a Rafflecopter giveaway

SALE! SALE! SALE!

LQQKIE WHAT I DID!!!    *´¨✫)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨)✯ ¸.•*¨)
✮ (¸.•´TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL HAVING HOPE!!! After so long it's really happening! Eeeep!  Since I sucketh hardcore for waiting FOREVER to drop the final Blow Hole book, I've put the entire series on sale for only $0.99! Get it while it's on sale!
Pre-Order your copy of HAVING HOPE today! It's now up for pre-order on iTunes, BN, & Kobo!

Playing Patience
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CIYSEUO
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00CIYSEUO
BN: http://tinyurl.com/jkcbs3x
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/gnw64nt
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id804459953

Perfecting Patience
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E1AVX1A
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00E1AVX1A
BN: http://tinyurl.com/zmhkvcd
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/z7gjwsd
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id804527548

Finding Faith
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00G626JKQ
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00G626JKQ
BN: http://tinyurl.com/jpevuw6
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/h7824q3
iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/zrbh9c5

Convincing Constance
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JX8FVKO
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00JX8FVKO
BN: http://tinyurl.com/gsyag2q
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/jrmth5c
iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/gs993x2

Having Hope
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01DUVUXR0
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01DUVUXR0
BN: http://tinyurl.com/hal6oe7
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1126458215
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/having-hope-1

 

SALE SALE SALE!!!

LQQKIE WHAT I DID!!! 

Playing Patience and Perfecting Patience are on sale for only $0.99 for a limited time. GET YOUR COPY TODAY!
PLAYING PATIENCE Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CIYSEUO
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00CIYSEUO
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id804459953
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/gnw64nt
BN: http://tinyurl.com/z6z6mm7 PERFECTING PATIENCE Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E1AVX1A
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00E1AVX1A
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id804527548
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/z7gjwsd
BN: http://tinyurl.com/zmhkvcd

$30 Giveaway - LITTLE BLACK BREAK Release & Excerpt

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!!ENTER TO WIN $30 AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS POSTTabatha and Melissa are hosting a LITTLE BLACK BREAK party in Tabatha's fan group! Click HERE to become a Wicked Bitch and enter to win a multitude of items ranging from SIGNED BOOKS, stickers, postcards, bookmarks, jewelry, pens, coffee mugs, dvds, Funko Pops, notebooks, and more!  FOR MORE GIVEAWAY OPPORTUNITES/STALK TABATHA VARGO
TABATHA ON AMAZONFOLLOW TABATHA LIKE TABATHATWEET WITH TABATHAJOIN TABATHA'S MAIL LIST

STALK MELISSA ANDREA
WEBSITE
FACEBOOK
TWITTER
MAILING LIST

    Genres: Romance, Erotic, Contemporary LITTLE BLACK BREAKMy name’s Sebastian Black, and my life as I know it is over. My little black book days were numbered the minute I met Rosslyn. She became my one and only and lightened my dark soul.  But now my past is threatening my future—threatening the woman I love. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. Even if I have to lie—pretend to cheat—I need her to leave my world and remain safe.  Breaking her heart is killing me, but I refuse to let my old sins destroy the only good in my life.  If you love her, let her go. If you’re dangerous like me, pray she stays away. I won’t let her get caught in the crossfire. No matter who I have to break. GET YOUR COPY OF LITTLE BLACK BREAK NOW!
  
 “Sebastian says touch yourself.” His husky voice brushed the side of my neck, sending chills to my toes. “Slide your fingers into your sweet pussy so I can suck them clean.”I melted beneath him, my thighs widening automatically as my wandering fingers rolled over my clit. Sensation moved over me and my body tensed. Sebastian was the king of foreplay, leaving me wet and ready—throbbing so hard I thought I’d die if he didn’t put me out of my misery.“Please, Sebastian. Give me what I want,” I begged. All this time together and he was still able to make me beg for his touch—make me breathe his name until he soothed the sweet ache he’d built between my thighs. “Ah, come on, Mrs. Black. How do you expect me to hold out when you beg so sweetly?”“I’m not Mrs. Black yet, Mr. Black,” I teased.Sebastian had officially proposed the night I graduated from Tech with my Associate’sin Criminal Justice. He’d offered to pay for an expensive four-year college, but I was determined to do things on my own, which meant Tech it was. And with my past and the many years I’d spent needing justice for the murder of my parents, criminal justice made sense. His proposal was unexpected since everyone who knew Sebastian knew he wasn’t the marrying kind. Even I was shocked when he dropped to one knee in the middle of our bedroom and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. I’d had some champagne at the celebratory dinner after my graduation ceremony, and I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly, but then he looked up at me with pure adoration and I knew—I just knew—I never wanted to be away from him. I’d never love another man the way I loved Sebastian, and no other man would ever love me the way he did.    I said yes, and we spent the rest of the night making love. It was beautiful. Perfection.Everything Sebastian embodied.That was a week ago, and his look of adoration still lingered in his expression, but as he looked down at me, it was a raw,unadulterated need that filled his clear blue eyes. His grin was dark and dangerous as he pulled my fingers from my trembling body and sucked the glistening moisture from their length—his tongue flicking at the tips. Desire struck me deep and I bit into my lip to control the animalistic growl that crawled up the back of my throat.Dark, damp hair fell over his scorching blue eyes and I brushed it away with my free hand, losing my fingers in its thickness. My hips lifted from the plush mattress, begging on their own for his length. He chuckled, the sound rich and exotic as it rumbled across my skin. “Official or not, you’re mine, Rosslyn. You’ve been mine since the first time I laid eyes on you. Do you understand?”His thick cock massaged my entrance soothing the ache briefly as he teased me in return. With his skin beneath my nails, I dug my fingers deep into his flesh as I tried to pull his body into mine. “Now, Sebastian. I need you,” I breathed. “No, beautiful, not until you give me what I want.”I knew what he wanted, but like him, I liked to make him beg for it. It was why we worked. Push and pull. Give and take. I was able to hook Sebastian Black because I wasn’t afraid to fight him—to make him quake with want, quiver with need. We drove each other crazy, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Still, I pressed my lips together, holding out for a little longer. He pushed against me harder, my insides burning for his intrusion.“Fuck,” he rumbled. “Say it, Rosslyn. Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you what you want all night long, baby.”I lifted my hips to draw him in, but he pulled back letting the cool air rush between us. “Give me what I want and I’ll tell you what you want to hear,” I countered.Again, he snickered; the evident strain in his voice letting me know I was close to winning. His body was stiff above me, his biceps trembling from holding up his weight and his hips shaking against my core. I could see the defeat in his eyes as he licked his lips and his breath quickened. He was incredibly sexy all the time, but nothing beat Sebastian in the heat of the moment—the seconds before he climbed into me and set both our bodies aflame. And then he shifted and filled me.Deep.Thick.Stretching me so completely I mewed in appreciation. He closed his eyes against the pleasure, and we sighed in unison at the sweet relief. “Is this what you want, dirty girl? You want my cock deep inside you?” His breathing was erratic; his eyes steeled in preparation for taking me hard and fast the way I liked it. I nodded as I internally celebrated winning our little game of tug-of-war. “Say it, Rosslyn.” He pulled back and pushed into me—hard and swift—deeper and deeper with each thrust. It felt amazing. He felt wonderful. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” he growled. “I’ll never get over how perfect you feel. So tight—so wet—wrapped around my cock.”My toes dug into the mattress as desire worked its way from my hips and into my stomach. I loved the way Sebastian talked to me—especially during sex. It was an aphrodisiac for my senses, and it made me feel powerful. It made me feel wanted—like he could never get enough of me, which was good considering I knew I’d never get enough of him. “Say it, baby. I need to hear it.”I loved it when he begged—the strain in his voice fulfilling me emotionally while his body pleasured me physically. The tension in his voice thick and ready to snap. He wanted me—he needed me to soothe his ache the way he was soothing mine. It was physical, but it was also mental. Emotionally, Sebastian needed more. He needed me to reach inside his mind and soothe him in a way I couldn’t with my body. Spiritually, he needed depth. To know that I was latching on to him and never leaving his side. All his life he’d been left. Put on the side of the road and never collected. I’d always known how broken he was, but I also knew it was my job to keep him together. I opened my mouth to say the words he longed to hear, to give him the relief he was giving me, but he plowed into my center once more and the words melted on my tongue leaving a pleasured moan in their stead. “Say it, Rosslyn,” he demanded.He was getting louder, his body stronger—faster—ruthless.I was lost in a sea of baby blue as he stared down at me with determination. Sweat dotted his brow, threatening to drip onto my flaming skin. I dug my fingernails into the flesh of his firm ass, making him growl. He quickened, taking my body with passion—slamming into me—pushing me to the head of the bed and to the brink of release.“I can’t … I can’t say it,” I stuttered.Confusion swept over his expression. “Why not?”And then I smiled because I knew I’d officially won our little game. It wasn’t often that I won in our little game of wits and foreplay, but I’d held out regardless of the intensity of his movements—the passion in his eyes—the pleasure that flowed through me so completely. I’d won. “Because you didn’t say Sebastian says.”        
   
     a Rafflecopter giveaway

$30 Giveaway - LITTLE BLACK BREAK Pre-Order Links, Excerpt, and Little Black Book SALE!

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!!ENTER TO WIN $30 AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS POSTTabatha and Melissa are hosting a LITTLE BLACK BREAK party in Tabatha's fan group! Click HERE to become a Wicked Bitch and enter to win a multitude of items ranging from SIGNED BOOKS, stickers, postcards, bookmarks, jewelry, pens, coffee mugs, dvds, Funko Pops, notebooks, and more!


 FOR MORE GIVEAWAY OPPORTUNITES/STALK TABATHA VARGO
TABATHA ON AMAZONFOLLOW TABATHA LIKE TABATHATWEET WITH TABATHAJOIN TABATHA'S MAIL LIST
   Genres: Romance, Erotic, Contemporary, the sequel to New York Times bestseller Little Black Book.LITTLE BLACK BREAKMy name’s Sebastian Black, and my life as I know it is over. My little black book days were numbered the minute I met Rosslyn. She became my one and only and lightened my dark soul.  But now my past is threatening my future—threatening the woman I love. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. Even if I have to lie—pretend to cheat—I need her to leave my world and remain safe.  Breaking her heart is killing me, but I refuse to let my old sins destroy the only good in my life.  If you love her, let her go. If you’re dangerous like me, pray she stays away. I won’t let her get caught in the crossfire. No matter who I have to break. PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY OF LITTLE BLACK BREAK NOW!  BN COMING SOON!  iTUNES COMING SOON!   
 “Sebastian says touch yourself.” His husky voice brushed the side of my neck, sending chills to my toes. “Slide your fingers into your sweet pussy so I can suck them clean.”I melted beneath him, my thighs widening automatically as my wandering fingers rolled over my clit. Sensation moved over me and my body tensed. Sebastian was the king of foreplay, leaving me wet and ready—throbbing so hard I thought I’d die if he didn’t put me out of my misery.“Please, Sebastian. Give me what I want,” I begged. All this time together and he was still able to make me beg for his touch—make me breathe his name until he soothed the sweet ache he’d built between my thighs. “Ah, come on, Mrs. Black. How do you expect me to hold out when you beg so sweetly?”“I’m not Mrs. Black yet, Mr. Black,” I teased.Sebastian had officially proposed the night I graduated from Tech with my Associate’sin Criminal Justice. He’d offered to pay for an expensive four-year college, but I was determined to do things on my own, which meant Tech it was. And with my past and the many years I’d spent needing justice for the murder of my parents, criminal justice made sense. His proposal was unexpected since everyone who knew Sebastian knew he wasn’t the marrying kind. Even I was shocked when he dropped to one knee in the middle of our bedroom and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. I’d had some champagne at the celebratory dinner after my graduation ceremony, and I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly, but then he looked up at me with pure adoration and I knew—I just knew—I never wanted to be away from him. I’d never love another man the way I loved Sebastian, and no other man would ever love me the way he did.    I said yes, and we spent the rest of the night making love. It was beautiful. Perfection.Everything Sebastian embodied.That was a week ago, and his look of adoration still lingered in his expression, but as he looked down at me, it was a raw,unadulterated need that filled his clear blue eyes. His grin was dark and dangerous as he pulled my fingers from my trembling body and sucked the glistening moisture from their length—his tongue flicking at the tips. Desire struck me deep and I bit into my lip to control the animalistic growl that crawled up the back of my throat.Dark, damp hair fell over his scorching blue eyes and I brushed it away with my free hand, losing my fingers in its thickness. My hips lifted from the plush mattress, begging on their own for his length. He chuckled, the sound rich and exotic as it rumbled across my skin. “Official or not, you’re mine, Rosslyn. You’ve been mine since the first time I laid eyes on you. Do you understand?”His thick cock massaged my entrance soothing the ache briefly as he teased me in return. With his skin beneath my nails, I dug my fingers deep into his flesh as I tried to pull his body into mine. “Now, Sebastian. I need you,” I breathed. “No, beautiful, not until you give me what I want.”I knew what he wanted, but like him, I liked to make him beg for it. It was why we worked. Push and pull. Give and take. I was able to hook Sebastian Black because I wasn’t afraid to fight him—to make him quake with want, quiver with need. We drove each other crazy, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Still, I pressed my lips together, holding out for a little longer. He pushed against me harder, my insides burning for his intrusion.“Fuck,” he rumbled. “Say it, Rosslyn. Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you what you want all night long, baby.”I lifted my hips to draw him in, but he pulled back letting the cool air rush between us. “Give me what I want and I’ll tell you what you want to hear,” I countered.Again, he snickered; the evident strain in his voice letting me know I was close to winning. His body was stiff above me, his biceps trembling from holding up his weight and his hips shaking against my core. I could see the defeat in his eyes as he licked his lips and his breath quickened. He was incredibly sexy all the time, but nothing beat Sebastian in the heat of the moment—the seconds before he climbed into me and set both our bodies aflame. And then he shifted and filled me.Deep.Thick.Stretching me so completely I mewed in appreciation. He closed his eyes against the pleasure, and we sighed in unison at the sweet relief. “Is this what you want, dirty girl? You want my cock deep inside you?” His breathing was erratic; his eyes steeled in preparation for taking me hard and fast the way I liked it. I nodded as I internally celebrated winning our little game of tug-of-war. “Say it, Rosslyn.” He pulled back and pushed into me—hard and swift—deeper and deeper with each thrust. It felt amazing. He felt wonderful. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” he growled. “I’ll never get over how perfect you feel. So tight—so wet—wrapped around my cock.”My toes dug into the mattress as desire worked its way from my hips and into my stomach. I loved the way Sebastian talked to me—especially during sex. It was an aphrodisiac for my senses, and it made me feel powerful. It made me feel wanted—like he could never get enough of me, which was good considering I knew I’d never get enough of him. “Say it, baby. I need to hear it.”I loved it when he begged—the strain in his voice fulfilling me emotionally while his body pleasured me physically. The tension in his voice thick and ready to snap. He wanted me—he needed me to soothe his ache the way he was soothing mine. It was physical, but it was also mental. Emotionally, Sebastian needed more. He needed me to reach inside his mind and soothe him in a way I couldn’t with my body. Spiritually, he needed depth. To know that I was latching on to him and never leaving his side. All his life he’d been left. Put on the side of the road and never collected. I’d always known how broken he was, but I also knew it was my job to keep him together. I opened my mouth to say the words he longed to hear, to give him the relief he was giving me, but he plowed into my center once more and the words melted on my tongue leaving a pleasured moan in their stead. “Say it, Rosslyn,” he demanded.He was getting louder, his body stronger—faster—ruthless.I was lost in a sea of baby blue as he stared down at me with determination. Sweat dotted his brow, threatening to drip onto my flaming skin. I dug my fingernails into the flesh of his firm ass, making him growl. He quickened, taking my body with passion—slamming into me—pushing me to the head of the bed and to the brink of release.“I can’t … I can’t say it,” I stuttered.Confusion swept over his expression. “Why not?”And then I smiled because I knew I’d officially won our little game. It wasn’t often that I won in our little game of wits and foreplay, but I’d held out regardless of the intensity of his movements—the passion in his eyes—the pleasure that flowed through me so completely. I’d won. “Because you didn’t say Sebastian says.”        
   
 a Rafflecopter giveaway