R.E. Hargrave's Blog, page 272

L@K at ME! Every October by Aubree Lane

EVERY OCTOBERby Aubree LaneGenre: Paranormal Romance


Being dead isn’t as easy as you think.

Tied to the cemetery where her remains came to rest, the ghost of Zoey Harris is stuck. The only bright spot in her miserable afterlife is that every October she gets to visit her daughter. It’s typically a quick fly-by to see what costume she’s wearing for Halloween, but this year the five-year-old can not only sense her mother’s essence, she can see her. The adventure begins when Zoey grows more confident in her newfound haunting abilities and decides to sneak a peek and see what her husband has been up to.

Until death do us part was all Caleb promised. To have the specter of his dead wife reappear the moment he finds the courage to take off his wedding band is the stuff nightmares are made of. Their daughter loves it when Zoey drops by each fall, but he’s tired of the sadness and grief. Caleb needs more…even if it means chaining Zoey to her headstone for all eternity.



THE PULL GREW EACH OCTOBER. The urge to check in on her family was overwhelming. Zoey leaned her wispy frame over her daughter’s bed and kissed her forehead. The little girl blew out a contented sigh and nestled deeper into her pillow.

The scar running down the middle of Amy’s brow had faded to white. A second scar across her nose was barely noticeable. Zoey smiled. The plastic surgeon did an exceptional job. In another year, both scars would vanish.

Her best and only friend appeared beside her. “Here you are. I should have known.”

“Hush. Don’t wake her.”

Prue rolled her eyes. “Please, she’s a kid. I could scream at the top of my lungs and she wouldn’t move a muscle.” She gazed down at the angelic five-year-old and the tone of the older ghost softened. “Look how much she’s grown. I have to hand it to you, Zoe, you gave birth to a cute little sweetie pie.”

Zoey glowed with pride at the compliment until the memory of the car crash rushed in. It had been touch and go for the toddler. Every time Amy’s chubby arms reached out for her, Zoey pushed her away and told her to be with her father. Shunning her child was worse than dying, but Amy was only three years old. She was far too young to pass through the barrier between life and death. Guilt and sorrow filled every inch of Zoey’s ghostly being. “Then I almost caused her death.”

Icy fingers gouged her arm. Prue pulled her aside and chided, “Zoe, I love you, but you have to let it go. The accident might have been your fault, but Amy and Caleb didn’t die. You did. They’re fine.”

Amy’s sleepy voice called out, “Mommy?”

Prue’s eyes went wide as saucers. She hesitated for barely a moment before evaporating into thin air.

Zoey glided back to her daughter’s bed. “Yes, baby. It’s me.”

The five-year-old’s eyes never wavered. “I knew you’d come.”

Amy could sense when her mother was near, but it wasn’t possible for Zoey to manifest her spectral self. She wondered what Amy saw when she looked at her. “Smarty pants.” Zoey chuckled. “What gave me away?”

“Daddy asked me what I wanted to be for Halloween. That’s when you come.”

Zoey’s heart swelled with love. Amy was so small when the accident happened, yet she still thought of her. “Don’t leave me hanging. What are you dressing up as this year?”

Cartoon princesses danced across the front of her daughter’s light blue pajamas when she sat up. “I’m going to be a birthday cake. Lauren is making it especially for me.”

Her ghostly ears perked at the unfamiliar name. Zoey hoped she was the new nanny, but she suspected her husband’s grief had passed and that Lauren was Caleb’s girlfriend. Jealousy flared white hot.



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Aubree Lane is a true story teller. This award-winning author has been writing in one form or another for most of her life and has loved every moment.

Aubree lives in the beautiful foothills of Northern California with her husband, two wonderful sons, and a super special peek-a-poo named Tanner. When not managing the pooper-scooper, Aubree can be found at one of her favorite vacation spots ranging anywhere from Lake Tahoe to Maui.

Her motto: Write Until Your Butt Hurts, And Your Eyes Are Crossed.

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L@@K at ME! Halloween is Murder by Carolyn Arnold

HALLOWEEN IS MURDERMcKinley Mysteries, book 11
by Carolyn ArnoldGenre: Romantic Mystery Comedy


Beware of all that goes bump in the night…

Sean and Sara McKinley are excited about the haunted house they’ve set up as a Halloween charity fund-raiser, but things take a ghoulish turn when the reporter covering their story is found dead. With the media keeping mum about how she died, Sara’s curiosity is piqued, and she convinces Sean to take on the investigation through their PI firm.

But this case is not without its challenges. The police are actively investigating it, as well, and it’s not even clear that the woman was murdered. It will take a little cloak-and-dagger, dress-up, and finesse for the McKinleys to get to the bottom of it, but they aren’t the kind to give up.

As they troll for leads and work through the skeletons in the reporter’s closet, they unearth a few suspects, but they’ll need to carve out the whole truth if they’re going to find her killer. If they do so fast enough, there might even be time for a little trick-or-treating.


Chapter 5GRIM REAPER CLAIMS A VICTIM

“THERE SURE IS A LOT of secrecy surrounding Chloe’s death,” Sara said. “And they’ve all been ordered to keep quiet?” She looked over at Sean, who was behind the wheel, and arched an eyebrow. “That seems suspicious to me.”

“The station could be protecting their image. She could have had a drug overdose, something else…” he pointed out as he took a left turn, as directed by the GPS.

She wished she could run with that theory, but given their background as homicide detectives, her mind had to rule out murder first. “No, Sean, I don’t think so.”

“Well, before we get carried away, let’s talk to Jackson.” Sean steered the car into an apartment building parking lot.

She’d been working to quiet the voices in her head speculating about how Chloe had died, but speaking with Allison had only ratcheted up their chatter. She needed answers to quell her mind. She also felt a personal obligation to ensure justice was found, probably because she’d known Chloe—even if only for a brief time. Of course, that was assuming she’d been killed.

“And that poor man discovering his coworker,” Sara began. “I wonder where he found her and if he knows how she died.”

“Hopefully we’ll find out.” Sean got out of the car, came around, and opened her door. He held out a hand to her. “Keep in mind that Jackson might not be too happy to see us.”

“I know,” she said, taking his hand. “But if nothing else comes of this, maybe we’ll find out what happened to our segment.”

“Yeah, but will you be satisfied if that’s the only question we get answered?” He looked over at her as he held the front door of the building open for her. The glint in his eyes told her he doubted she’d let the matter of Chloe’s death go until she had all the boxes checkmarked and found out what had happened.

“I’d be lying if I said otherwise, and you know it. But please—” she took his hand “—just keep an open mind.”

Sean nodded. Sara often ran with her feelings, her hunches, her higher knowing, and did so on a whim. In contrast, Sean was compelled by reason, logic, and solid evidence.

They walked up to Jackson’s apartment on the third floor and knocked. Sean was about to knock again when footsteps padded toward the door. Then all went quiet for a bit. She imagined Jackson looking at them through the peephole.

“Jackson?” Sara called out. “It’s the McKinleys.” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “From the haunted house.” Maybe he needed a little more of a reminder.

Sean was shaking his head, and if she was reading his mind properly, he was thinking their coming here had been a bad idea.

“We’d like to talk to you about Chloe,” she said, certain to articulate in such way that he’d sense concern, not suspicion.

The chain rattled as it was being undone, and the handle turned. The door opened slowly.

Jackson was standing there in tattered jeans and a T-shirt. His eyes looked weary, and they were wet with unshed tears. Based on his complexion, she guessed that they had interrupted him crying.“She’s dead.” He spat out the words in a cool manner, as if trying to separate reality from emotion, but it only made his pain that much more tangible.




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✯✯✯✯✯An amusing and entertaining mystery!By Between the Coverz on October 3, 2017 via Amazon

Halloween is Murder is an adventurous entertaining suspense. The beginning is fun and cute and holds enough intrigue that I had to continue to read to find out what was going on. There are several different twists and turns throughout that will keep you guessing until the end. Carolyn Arnold knows how to keep the suspense and intrigue in her stories to keep the reader entertained.Carolyn Arnold has written another captivating and amazing story with characters that are well developed and engaging. Carolyn’s stories are brilliantly written, entertaining, and fascinating. This is a definite winner from this author. I can’t wait to read more in this series and will definitely go back and read the previous books.I have read several books by Carolyn Arnold have not been disappointed yet! No matter the seriousness, amusement, or content, Carolyn creates books that will have you engrossed to the very end. I recommend Halloween is Murder to anyone that enjoys an amusing, adventurous and entertaining mystery.

✯✯✯✯A Halloween MysteryBy Rebecca A on October 5, 2017 via Amazon

Private Investigators Sean and Sara McKinley have rented a house to host a Haunted House for Halloween and have Chloe Parsons, a reporter with Your Source News out to do a feature on it.But when Chloe winds up dead later that day there are questions about how she died. Chloe's sister, Marie believes that Chloe has been murdered and asks Sean and Sara to take on her case.Will Sara and Sean and their investigators get to the bottom of it and find out what happened to Chloe?This was an interesting story that had you wondering who had it out for Chloe when there seemed to be quite the list of suspects.We don't get much of Chloe first hand but it appeared that she had her mind set on getting where she wanted to go and wanted things her way. I could definitely understand if she made a couple of enemies from time to time.I think what I found interesting was that Sean, Sara and Jimmy Voight (an investigator with them) seemed to have some resistance by the police so I am not sure what occurred in the past as this was the first book I have read by this author.The ending did surprise me and I liked that.



What to expect from the McKinley Mysteries:
Romance. Humor. Murder. Are you looking for a murder mystery without all the graphic violence and foul language? Something that you can enjoy in an afternoon and walk away feeling good about afterward? How about a dash of humor and romance? If so, meet former detectives Sean and Sara McKinley. When a billionaire leaves them all his money, they no longer have to work, but they find themselves sticking to what they’re good at—solving murders. Undercover, off the books, and around the world, they’ll get to the bottom of things…and romance it up along the way.

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CAROLYN ARNOLD is an international bestselling and award-winning author, as well as a speaker, teacher, and inspirational mentor. She has four continuing fiction series—Detective Madison Knight, Brandon Fisher FBI, McKinley Mysteries, and Matthew Connor Adventures—and has written nearly thirty books. Her genre diversity offers her readers everything from cozy to hard-boiled mysteries, and thrillers to action adventures.

Both her female detective and FBI profiler series have been praised by those in law enforcement as being accurate and entertaining, leading her to adopt the trademark: POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT™.

Carolyn was born in a small town and enjoys spending time outdoors, but she also loves the lights of a big city. Grounded by her roots and lifted by her dreams, her overactive imagination insists that she tell her stories. Her intention is to touch the hearts of millions with her books, to entertain, inspire, and empower.

She currently lives just west of Toronto with her husband and beagle and is a member of Crime Writers of Canada and Sisters in Crime.

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Every Day Is Halloween
“Cozy mysteries are my new addiction. This is my first book by Carolyn Arnold and after completing it her other works were immediately added to my TBR list. Even though Halloween is Murder is part of the McKinley series, it can be read as a standalone.” –2 Girls & A Book

Ask anyone who loves Halloween and they’ll probably tell you their favorite part about it is dressing up. When you put on a costume, you can be whomever—or whatever—you want. It’s liberating! On top of that, it’s likely that there are all kinds of goodies lying around the house.

When I was a girl, I loved playing Barbie. I loved dressing her up and assigning her whatever life story I wanted. And, man, did I enjoy it! Maybe for a little too long, in fact. I kept playing into my early teens! At the time, I felt like some sort of freak. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted this news to get out to the kids at school. They probably would have called me a baby or something like that. So I kept this part of my life a secret, and I justified my addiction by pinning the blame on my sister, who is six years younger than me—she needed someone to play with!

Now that I’m older—much, much older—I look back and find this aspect of my past amusing. I realize that it’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, but it shows me that I’ve always loved telling stories and acting them out. No wonder I became an author!

In the grand scheme of things, Halloween is very similar. The holiday allows people of all ages to participate in this fantasy, if only for one night. But as an author, I get to experience Halloween every day of the year. I become someone else every time I sit at my desk and immerse myself into the worlds of my characters. I get to delve into their minds, to know their thoughts, their feelings, their personalities, their lives. And I get to share my imagination with my readers. Now that’s a real treat! Speaking of, I’m going to grab a small bowl of candy corn and gummy peaches and get to writing. Happy Halloween!

Carolyn Arnold

RELEASE TOUR: Evil Awakened by J.M. LeDuc

EVIL AWAKENEDThe Kiche Chronicles, book 1
by J.M. LeDucGenre: Native American/Urban Fantasy/Young Adult


From one generation to the next, legends of good and evil have been passed down around Indian campfires. With each passing generation, less is believed. To the young, they’re just stories, but to the elders, they are warnings.

In the woods, which border between the reservation and the Everglades, four teenage Cree braves recite an ancient ritual. Not understanding the words they say or the implications of their actions, they call forth a demon which had been cast into the netherworld with no chance of escape . . . unless man called it back. Free, it has one plan; build an army of beasts, and ultimately, become immortal by feeding on the spirit of the one destined to become the Kiche—the Sky Spirit Goddess.

It has been foretold that the gates of the netherworld will be opened and it will take the wiles and courage of a sixteen-year-old girl, whose skin is as white as winter’s snow, to send the demons back and save an entire nation.

Pamoon, left abandoned at birth on a Cree reservation, has been marked with a flame on both her neck and left palm. All her life, they have been a nuisance, but now they mark her destiny. With the fate of her friends’ lives on the line, will she have the courage to pick up the gauntlet and walk the path the fates chose for her before her birth? In EVIL AWAKENED, Pamoon and her wolf cub, Scout, begin a journey that may end in her demise or might possibly take her to worlds only humans can imagine. A journey to both heaven and hell. A path only the one destined to become the Kiche—the Sky Spirit Goddess—can travel. She’ll need help if she is to survive; help only the spirits can provide. Let’s pray it arrives in time.

Whatever evil man creates, only man can defeat.


Chapter One

The woods have always been sacred to Native Americans, but sacred doesn’t always equate with good. Like the sweet smell of Pine sap mixed with the pungent odor of decaying humus, spirits run the gamut of good and bad.

Spirits always hear the cries of those who call them; tonight . . . they’ll answer.

March 2, 12:10 a.m.

The smell of the Slash pines and Live oaks permeated the thick blanket of humidity. The temperature remained tolerable, but with air so thick, it was as if the clouds had descended from the sky and fallen upon the earth. The stillness of night and cover of foliage made the environment more oppressive. To a tourist or stranger, the weather might have seemed unbearable, but to those who grew up in and around the Florida Everglades, it was just another early spring evening.

Bobby and his friends huddled around a small, dimly lit fire nestled in the woods between the city limits of Swamp Ridge and the Indian reservation. Sweat poured from their skin, and alcohol swam through their bloodstream. Their teenage, liquor-infused imaginations burned hotter than the heat emanating from the glowing embers. Beer cans and an empty bottle of cheap gin littered the makeshift campground.

“I’m not sure about this,” Bobby, the most rational of the four, said. “You know what Powaw says about this stuff.”

Scott laughed at Bobby’s apprehension. “Don’t be such an âpakosîs,” he slurred. “We’re just screwing around. Besides, Powaw’s nuts. All the elders are crazy.”

Glassy-eyed, Bobby glared at his friend and pointed a stick in his direction. “Don’t call me a mouse. It just doesn’t feel right messing with this kind of thing.”

Mike, the alpha of the group, took his last swig of beer and crushed the can, belching at the same time. “You two losers are always arguing. Let’s do this.” Bobby watched him look over at Ralph, lying on the ground, passed out with pine needles stuck to his face. “Wake up the lightweight,” Mike said. “He has the spell.”

“They’re not spells,” Bobby mumbled under his breath. “We’re not witches.”

“Witches are girls, warlocks are guys,” Scott corrected.

Grunting, Bobby threw his hands up. “Witches, warlocks, it doesn’t matter.”

Mike took a step toward Bobby, his hands balled into fists. “What’d you say?”

“Relax, Mikey,” Scott said, stepping between them. “Every time you get drunk, you want to pick a fight with one of us.”

“I’m not drunk. I just don’t like when Einstein over here says shit under his breath.”

Bobby eyeballed his friend, squinting, trying to erase the double vision. “I said we’re not warlocks, we’re Cree braves. We don’t cast spells; we conduct ceremonies to awaken spirits.”

Scott shoved him, jokingly. “You’ve been spending way too much time with the elders. We’re just out here screwing around. You know as well as I do, this stuff is just legend. These things don’t actually work.”

“Then why bother? Let’s just clean up and go home.”

Mike brushed the dirt off his jeans, tied his long, black hair back in a knot on top of his head, and smirked. “We do it because it’s cool. There is nothing for us to do back on the reservation; at least this gives us a reason to come out here and drink. If you’re scared, little âpakosîs, then go home.”

Tossing the stick into the fire, Bobby’s face crimsoned. “I’m here, aren’t I,” he said. Balancing himself precariously, he shoved Ralph with the toe of his boot. “Wake up.”

Mike splashed beer on his friend’s face to speed up the process.

Drunkenly, Ralph slapped at the alcohol, smudging the dirt on his face, then stumbled to his feet.

After giving Ralph a few minutes to focus his thoughts, Bobby and the others formed a circle around the fire. Taking in the view, he thought of how all his friends looked different, yet they were, at their very core, the same. He was the smallest of the four, but the smartest. Ralph was the quiet one, yet he could be dared into trying anything. Scott was the biggest, the group’s protector. He’d stand up to anyone who dared insult his friends. And then there was Mike. Mike was the athlete, the one who seemed to go through puberty when he was ten, and always acted as if he had too much testosterone rushing through his veins.

All different, yet the same. They all had an olive skin tone with a complexion most girls would kill for. They all had straight, silky, black hair which they wore long and straight. And they were all proud of their Native American heritage.

All different, yet the same. 

Bobby’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ralph clearing his throat. Turning his attention to his friend, he watched Ralph pull the ritual he had torn out of his grandfather’s old book from his pocket, unfold the paper, and start reading.

“Kihci Macimanito, Pimihawin Mistikwan, koskonowewin. Tatawaw ota. Kîyânaw natohtamawin kiya ôma wîcihiwewin. Kiya katikaweyin peyakotipiyimisiwin ohtâyihk ana asahpicekewin kiya.” 

The trio repeated the Cree words none of them understood and could barely pronounce.

Bobby eyed Ralph, who had stopped reading and gruffed his frustration. “If you want the spirits to hear us, we need to say this like we mean it.”

The four exchanged glances; Ralph nodded and started reading from the beginning. This time, the others repeated the words as if they believed whatever it was they were saying.

The still, stale air was broken by a breeze that whistled through the woods causing the rustling of leaves and branches, creating the sound of shaking maracas. The sudden change in the environment seemed to energize Ralph, who began to recite the words with increased attitude and volume. The others followed suit, and with every word emoted, the winds surged and swirled.

The gusts swept the dirt, pine needles, and dying embers into the night, making them feel like bee stings striking Bobby’s face. An unexplained fear began to bubble inside him as he slapped the dirt from his eyes. Trembling, he tore the paper from Ralph’s hand to stop him from repeating the ritual. Crumpling it in his fist, he threw the paper towards the fire. An acrid blast of wind blew it away from the flames and swept it toward the trees.

The hair on the back of Bobby’s neck tingled. “I don’t like the way this feels,” he whispered, dread dripping from his words. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The others must have felt the same way, for they hastily grabbed their packs and started running.

As Bobby raced through the low-branched pines, he thought he heard Mike. The squeal was so short-lived, he couldn’t be sure; his fear forced him to run faster. With each burst of wind, he heard another one of his friends cry out. The combination of running, alcohol, and adrenaline made him want to throw up; he choked it down and kept moving. Turning back toward the noise, Bobby saw nothing through the curtain of night. The air, thicker and heavier than before, forced him to breathe through his mouth. Turning forward, he glimpsed a low hanging branch in his peripheral vision—too little, too late. The bow smacked his forehead, knocking him to the dirt. Instinctively, his hand went to his cheek; he felt the sharp sting of the gash and the wet warmth of fresh blood. His feet scrambling, his hands clawing, it took all his resolve to put one foot in front of the other. His legs finding a rhythm, he sprinted onward.

Seeing the lights of the reservation through the thickness of leaves, Bobby emitted a short sigh of relief before one last gust of wind struck his face. His eyes screamed in horror and his vocal cords danced in pain, but sound never moved past his lips.



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Mark Adduci, writing as J. M. LeDuc, is a native Bostonian, who transplanted to South Florida in 1985. He shares his love and life with his wife, Sherri and his daughter, Chelsea.

Blessed to have had a mother who loved the written word, her passion was passed on to him. It is in her maiden name he writes.

J.M. LeDuc's first novel, "Cursed Blessing," won a Royal Palm Literary Award in 2008 as an unpublished manuscript in the thriller category and was published in 2010. The rest of the Trilogy of the Chosen: "Cursed Presence" and "Cursed Days" followed in 2012, as well as a novella, "Phantom Squad"--a prequel to the trilogy. "Cornerstone," the continuation of the Phantom Squad Series was published in 2013 to critical acclaim.

"SIN" is the first book in the new Sinclair O'Malley Series.

J.M. is a proud member of the prestigious International Thriller Writers (ITW) as well as the Florida Writers Association (FWA) and loves to interact with his fans. He can be reached at jm_leduc@yahoo.com and on Facebook on his author page.

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RELEASE TOUR: The Audition; L@@K at ME! The Avenger, both by Lea Bronsen

THE AUDITION & TORN AVENGER2 separate books
by Lea Bronsen
The Audition
Genre: Dark Erotic Crime MénageRelease Date: October 20, 2017

Ruthless drug lord Ricardo “El Loco” Ferrer launders his black money by investing in movie productions. As a teen, he learned to enjoy blow jobs in jail. Now a man of power, his favorite pastime is checking out new acting talent…and convincing them to “please” the team of producers.

Young wannabe actor Jaden Moore comes to a shady side of town to audition for a movie part. He longs to shine, wants to walk the red carpet with cameras flashing and a crowd cheering. He assures the film director and the investors he’ll do anything to reach the top, but is he willing to comply with their dirty fantasies?




Rico flashed Jaden his best playboy smile and opened his shirt button by button. It usually had the effect he wanted. He took great care of his body. The other job demanded he stay in tip-top shape, and the result came in handy during this part of the audition. Most young people found difficult to resist a tanned, well-built, and slightly sweaty chest.

Indeed, the more buttons he popped, the more Jaden stared, as if fascinated.

Rico grinned. Once the shirt hung loose, displaying his neat washboard of a stomach, he palmed his crotch. This part of the game, he savored. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the outline of his stiff length through his pants, up and down, slowly. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He drew an exaggerated breath.

No answer.

Was the kid going to refuse playing, now that they’d gone so far? It would be a shame. Rico liked him. Jaden had proven worthy. A wide range of emotions boiled in him, and it didn’t take much coaxing to have him spill them out with raging honesty. That, Rico respected. “El Loco” may be a heartless son of a bitch, but he recognized uprigthness and integrity. He would never hurt someone fighting tooth and nail for noble values.

More, Jaden triggered something in Rico that he wasn’t unwilling to explore, given the right circumstances. He’d spent the past two decades a lonely man, and to be honest, it began to wear on him. What the terms for changing—improving—a part of his life were, he didn’t know yet. And it wasn’t without risk: he’d spent those years building a shell so no one could touch him. There were certain things guns couldn’t protect him from.

He reopened his eyes.

At the same time, Jaden flicked his gaze up, searching Rico’s. “I thought you said I got the movie part?”

“You got it.” Rico grinned. “This is a bonus.”

“Oh,” the kid said, in a choked tone that almost tore a laugh out of Rico. That, and his reddish complexion, told Rico he could continue playing.

In one swift move, he zipped down his pants to let the beast loose. “Look,” he said, voice tight, grabbing his swollen cock at the base and making the entire length swing from side to side. “You see this, Jaden? You’re the one doing it to me.” He moved forward, stroking his hard shaft, until mere inches separated them. Jaden’s warm breaths blew on his face. “Do you like what you see?”



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Torn Avenger
Genre: Dark Viking RomanceRelease Date: September 20, 2017

As the second son of a Viking earl, Alv Gunnulfsen wasn't meant to inherit a throne or avenge a murder. But when his brother is slain during a raid and their father dies of grief, Alv is expected to take command and claim the killer's death. In a world of ruthless retaliation and strict social codes, he must also maneuver cleverly to protect a troublesome secret: his attraction for men.

Roeland van Dijk, a wealthy Dutch merchant settled in Norway, has done the unthinkable to protect his family — hacked off the head of a Viking rapist. The wrath of the blond savages will cost him his freedom, and possibly his own head… Unless he's willing to accept the love of another man.




After a moment, Alv looked up again and almost gasped from the erotic vision in front of him. While shaving Roeland, he’d only seen his wet, hairy chest and stomach, but the handsome man moved to a kneeling position in the basin and washed his lower body. His stunning maleness made Alv hot and bothered. They had discussed, argued, shared personal details, and apologized to each other, but now, the seriousness of their conversation faded. The sight of Roeland’s cock bathing in white foam between his legs had Alv’s own cock jolt and press painfully against his pants.

Oh, Roeland attracted him on several levels—mental, emotional, and physical—and Alv longed to discover and develop more of everything with him. Hedin was an exciting lover, but nothing like what Roeland had the potential to be.

Speaking of Hedin, it’d been a surprise to see him again this morning, right after Elke left. He’d arrived in a terrible mood and refused to excuse his disappearance act. It was outrageous of a slave to come and go like that, but Alv had too much on his mind to think of punishing him.

For one, he worried about Roeland’s future. He’d inherited part of Father’s wealth, but not his title. After returning to Eðni, he’d claimed to be the only one who could decide of what to do with his brother’s murderer, but it wasn’t true. He had no standing, no support from his fellow citizens. They could choose to kill Roeland if they wanted to—all it took was a word from Mother. It made her idea to have Alv marry Elke and adopt the community’s natural heir that much more important to push through.

“There’s something we need to talk about,” he said, hoping Roeland wouldn’t oppose to the plan.

“What?”

“Normally, I would ask you, but since you’re not in a position to make decisions, I’m just going to tell you.”

“About what?” Roeland frowned.

“I’m marrying your sister.”

Roeland stood so fast in the basin, water splashed to all sides. He stepped out and leaned into Alv’s face. “Don’t you dare to touch her!”

“But I’m not…”

“Hasn’t she suffered enough?” Roeland bellowed, his dark eyes slit with anger.

By Thor, he was insanely sexy, standing naked and wet, so near Alv could feel his damp bodily heat, water drippling from his hair and rolling alongside his tanned, chiseled cheeks. Alv couldn’t help hardening more, and needed to focus on the words that came out of Roeland’s luscious mouth to be able to answer. “She has already accepted.”




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Award-winning author Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.

She's signed with Evernight Publishing, Decadent Publishing, and Insatiable Press. She has also self-published some of her works and participated in the making of several anthologies.

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RELEASE TOUR: Betting on Cinderella by Petie McCarty #GIVEAWAY

BETTING ON CINDERELLAThe Cinderella Romances, book 2
by Petie McCartyGenre: contemporary romance


Garrett Tucker inherits his grandfather's casino empire and steps into the reclusive billionaire's shoes as the "Prince of Vegas." His first act is to buy a bankrupt casino in Biloxi. When he discovers embezzling in his new operation, Garrett goes in undercover. His prime suspect is the new finance supervisor—the spitfire brunette who stole his heart at first sight.

Andi Ryan moves to Biloxi to care for her godmother and takes a job as finance supervisor for the renovated Bayou Princess casino. She discovers someone is skimming from the till and starts her own investigation, worried she will be blamed for the theft when the new owner discovers her godmother has a gambling addiction.

Garrett's rival Vegas competitor has sent a spy in to ruin the Bayou Princess, and Garrett and Andi are forced to work together to prove her innocence and discover the identity of their casino spy.


Garrett mentally kicked himself. He had gone and scared her.

Too much. Too soon. 

But he couldn’t make himself move. He could lie here forever with Andi in his arms.

She wriggled from his grasp to sit up. “Um . . .”

“What?”

She looked too uncertain.

Not good. 

He was okay with, “Not now, but maybe later.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Good thing he was sitting down. The jangle of fear that hit him could have knocked his knees out from under him.

“Can’t or won’t?” he forced out. No maybes on this one.

“Both.”

What the hell? Can’t and won’t?

All his uncertainties flooded back. Flora had said Andi and Peters were just friends. Was that friends with benefits? And what about that damn Drakos pawing her last week? No, he wouldn’t let those doubts crowd them here on the couch.

“Too soon?” he tried.

“Partly.” She looked away, and his heart sank amongst the growing heap of doubts.

“There’s someone else,” he said flatly, working to keep his expression blank and the hurt at bay.

She met his gaze square on then, no doubt trying to muscle her courage. “There’s something I should tell you.”

Damn.

“I’m—” She exhaled hard. “—no good at it.”

What? Is that all?

He fought back a grin of pure joy. “I’ll give you lessons.” He pulled her back for another kiss.

She shoved at his chest. “No. I don’t think I should.”

She flinched at his expression, and he worked to smooth his scowl.

“Go ahead. Spit it out.” Even he didn’t like his tone. “You’re sleeping with someone else, right?”

He should have done his homework before he went off half-cocked with all the flowers and balloons, trying to woo her.

“No, and I should slap you for that, suggesting I’m loose enough to go out with you while sleeping with someone else.”

“Then what the hell is it?” he shouted, forgetting all about Flora at the back of the house.

“I’ve never done it before!” she shouted back.

“What? Slapped someone?”

“No, you jerk. Slept with someone.” This, she didn’t shout.

He froze, right down to his heartbeat, and stared at her bright-pink cheeks. Could it be? Was she? A virgin?

“Holy smokes,” he wheezed.

She stared at her untouched glass of wine. “I’m not saying you and I will never,” she said softly.

Relief, warm and desperate, allowed his muscles to finally move. He gently traced the line of her cheek with his finger, a lump forming in his throat at the touch of something so rare and priceless.“Glad to hear that.” He brushed his lips across hers, light as a whisper. Once. “My little sweetheart.” Twice. “My precious—” Three times. Always a charm.

“You’re not mad?”

Those big blue eyes stared up at him with an innocence that made his too-experienced heart ache with emotion.

“Mad?”

Should he tell her he wanted to go outside and howl his joy at the moon? To yell to the world what a lucky son of a gun he was? His Andi would be his Andi—proprietary, like his stock portfolio. All his. No one else. A primal sense of possessiveness overwhelmed him.

“No, sweetheart, not mad. Glad,” he managed, then tugged her close and let his kiss show her exactly how he felt.

“When you’re ready,” he said against her lips. “Only when you’re ready.”

He had finally said and done the right thing, for she grabbed his shirt and laid an eye-crossing kiss on him.



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CINDERELLA BUSTED
Cinderella's fairy tale moves to Jupiter Island, Florida where Lily Foster, owner of an eclectic landscape nursery, is mistaken for a wealthy socialite by billionaire resort developer Rhett Buchanan. Overdue for a little romance in her life, Lily is anxious for one fabulous date with her handsome prince, so she cultivates her inadvertent masquerade.

Rhett Buchanan has become jaded with the Palm Beach social scene, dominated by scheming women desperate for more money -- his money. Rhett falls hard when he meets Lily Foster. She is a breath of fresh air after the smog of gold diggers constantly surrounding him.

For Rhett and Lily, it's love at first sight until her deception comes to light and pitches their relationship into a disastrous tailspin. Well-meaning friends are determined to intercede and resort to inept high jinks to reunite the estranged couple while a wicked ex-girlfriend plays dirty to keep the couple apart.



Petie spent a large part of her career working at Walt Disney World -- "The Most Magical Place on Earth" -- where she enjoyed working in the land of fairy tales by day and creating her own romantic fairy tales by night, including her new series, The Cinderella Romances. She eventually said good-bye to her "day" job to write her stories full-time. These days Petie spends her time writing sequels to her regency time-travel series, Lords in Time, and her mystery-romance-with-elements-of-suspense series, the Mystery Angel Romances.

Petie shares her home on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee with her horticulturist husband, a spoiled-rotten English Springer spaniel addicted to pimento-stuffed green olives, and a noisy Nanday conure named Sassy who made a cameo appearance in Angel to the Rescue.

Visit Petie's web site online or her Facebook page.

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RELEASE TOUR: Stars in the Morning by Laura Strickland #GIVEAWAY

STARS IN THE MORNINGLandmarks Series
by Laura StricklandGenre: Historical Romance, Americana


Accused of ruining Mae Ballard and faced with a shotgun wedding, Jefferson Lind knows exactly who’s to blame. He’s been taking the fall for Jedediah’s sins as long as he can remember. Mae’s a shrieking shrew, and he hasn’t seen Jed, his identical twin, since they worked digging the Erie Canal together. If he’d been ordered to marry Mae’s sweet younger sister Rosie, instead, he sure wouldn’t complain.

Rosie’s the only member of her family who believes Jeff, and she’d go to any lengths to free him from her sister’s clutches. But when Jedediah turns up with violent thugs on his tail, things quickly grow more dangerous. Gamblers from Buffalo seize both sisters as hostages, prompting a daring impersonation. Can Jeff and Jed shed their troubled past and win the hearts of the women they love?



She poured some of the septic powder she'd brought into the basin. "Let's get you cleaned up first, eh?"

A few of the scrapes were deep. Clearly he'd had a go at washing them off and done a poor job. The next few moments were painful to both of them. Rosie hated hurting anyone, except maybe Mae. Her sympathetic agony, however, was offset by the sheer pleasure of touching him.

By heaven, to have such a man beneath her hands! He smelled like sunshine, fresh air and tangy male, and it went straight to her head.

She concentrated on separating herself from the feelings surging through her and failed completely when he suddenly raised his hand and touched her cheek.

"What happened to you?"

All sense had gone out of Rosie's mind; she had to search it to remember.

"Oh, that was Mae."

"Mae?" His tawny eyes narrowed between their swollen lids. "She hit you?"

Rosie smiled ruefully. "She did."

"Nasty baggage. She left a bruise."

"Don't worry about me, Mr. Lind."

"I think you should call me Jeff, don't you? Seeing as how you're the one person in the world who believes I’m not a liar."

"Jeff," Rosie repeated, suddenly breathless.

"My misbegotten brother is Jed—Jedediah and Jefferson." Humor tinged his voice. "I'm called after the great president."

"Lucky you."

"Never been lucky, no not me." His eyes looked into hers, dodging nothing. "At least, I never was."



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Award-winning author Laura Strickland delights in time traveling to the past and searching out settings for her books, be they Historical Romance, Steampunk or something in between. Born and raised in Western New York, she’s pursued lifelong interests in lore, legend, magic and music, all reflected in her writing. Although she enjoys travel, she’s usually happiest at home with her husband and her "fur" child, a rescue dog. Author of numerous Historical and Contemporary Romances, she resides within walking distance of the Erie Canal.

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RELEASE TOUR: Freeing the Beast by Tina Donahue #GIVEAWAY

FREEING THE BEASTTaming the Beast, book 1
by Tina DonahueGenre: Erotic Paranormal - Romantic Comedy


No more Mr. Nice Guy.

For Becca Salt being a witch isn’t all magic. Too curvy and lonely, she spends her nights running a makeover service for demons, vamps, weres and zombies who want to project a more human, normal side. Their goal? To get the babes without the authorities hunting them down like rabid dogs. Once Becca suppresses the worst of their beast, they’re on the hunt and gone.

Dating has been a definite bitch for Eric Diletto. Although he’s hot and hung, he’s also one of Cupid’s descendants—a god born to believe in courtship, courtesy and all that other junk. Tired of women dumping him for the bad boys, Eric hires Becca to release his inner beast. Grrrr.

Two potions later, they’re crawling all over each other. With Eric’s newfound dominance, he’s definitely the man. And the god, who intends to take Becca here, there and everywhere. Who said sorcery and love wasn’t fun?

Warning—a witchdoctor’s nightmare. Contains potions with weird side effects, a sorceress with limited magical skills and a yearning heart, plus a minor god who wants to get down and dirty. Bad, bad boy.

Ingredients for potions, along with books containing ancient and contemporary spells, littered Becca Salt’s desk at From Crud to Stud, her New Orleans makeover service for supernatural beings.

As a business owner, she had no equal. She’d worked feverishly these last years, putting in the hours and expending the proverbial blood, sweat and tears to grow her company. When it came to management, hiring, promotion or a vision for the future, she had no equal.

As far as magic and attracting guys went, she was a total freaking dud. Love, it seemed, would never come her way. Conjuring, neither.

“Dammit, you can do this.” She was a smart woman, able to rack up a perfect score on the SAT without cracking one textbook, which she’d hated, or cheating with sorcery. Witchcraft should have been a breeze.

If only she could concentrate on this stuff.

Designated Survivor played on her computer screen. Poor Kiefer Sutherland was in a hell of a mess trying to keep the country together while also dodging bullets, conspiracies and backstabbing lawmakers. Her addiction to this show, plus Superstore, The Blacklist, Blindspot and The Good Fight was her downfall. She also sensed being half witch and half mortal had something to do with her difficulty in mastering her craft. If her dad had been a warlock rather than a Democrat and a Teamster, she might have been into this stuff.

Her mom, Rowena, a crackerjack witch from an esteemed covern, hadn’t agreed. “Study more and you’ll do fine,” she’d told Becca the other day. “This stuff’s easier than what you had to do in high school.”

She begged to differ. Dodging the mean girls, being invisible to the guys, navigating each horribly long day without a clique to protect her and looking as she did had been brutal. She wasn’t a ghoul by any means, but she had boobs, hips and thighs like a normal person rather than a high-fashion model.

Countless diets later, here she was, nowhere close to a size zero and desperately wanting a Meat Lover’s pizza chased by a Dove Bar.

Her stomach growled. Frustrated but determined, she waited until the commercial break and tried a simple trick—jerking her finger to open the age-old spells book.

The volume spun, flew across the room and landed on her needlepoint sofa.

“Crap.” She paged through a witchcraft primer the old-fashioned way, like people had to do with print books before e-Readers had come around. Even though Google was supposed to contain all the information in the universe, including how to construct bombs, neither black nor white magic was included in its repertoire.

She rifled faster, her only option. The publication lacked an index and wasn’t organized in any logical manner that she could determine. Whoever put this thing together should be strangled. A page tore. If she’d been at the top of her game, she would have repaired it by wiggling her nose as Samantha Stephens had done in that old TV show Bewitched. More than once, Becca had wondered why even the best witch would bother invoking powers to get material stuff. Next-day Amazon service, delivery drones and credit cards had made these skills unnecessary.

The commercial break ended. Kiefer was back, looking freaked out by the latest disaster but still presidential. She’d reached a page with instructions on how to change channels on a TV or cable programs on a laptop without using a remote, keystrokes or a mouse. At last, something she could use. Before she read details, she checked the copyright date. This baby had been written in the early nineteen-fifties but had regular updates. The last one had happened in the mid nineteen-eighties.

Sorcerers had to get with the times or they’d become as obsolete as looking stuff up rather than asking Siri for data, like a civilized person should.

After scanning the details for changing a show on a computer, she waited until the Designated Survivor credits scrolled down the screen. “Here goes.” She held her breath, religiously repeated the words she needed and moved her finger in a tight circle as indicated in the graphic.

Her laptop shut off, powered back on and opened on a page for an advertisement selling potions at a discount. Even for a witch, there was no relief from pop-up ads.

Footfalls sounded in the hall and rushed toward her office.

Just what she didn’t need, a staff member seeing her struggle with this stuff. Already her screw-ups with magic were legendary. Thankfully, she could count on her mom’s assistance those few times someone needed conjuring that worked. Witchcraft was old-fashioned compared to moonlight therapy for weres, behavioral and aversion treatments for vamps, personality and charm courses for zombies. Nothing but the latest innovations for her clients.

With little time to hide these things the normal way, Becca muttered the words to make junk disappear and waved her hands for good measure.

Several books disintegrated, leaving paper dust in their wake. Others landed in her desk drawers. She could live with that. The potion ingredients settled behind her potted plants. From certain angles they were, indeed, invisible. She burst with pride. After some tweaking on the words and hand gestures, she’d have this spell down pat. Only a zillion others to go.

“Yo.” Zoe stormed inside. “He’s still not here.”

Becca pulled up Excel on her laptop. “Who isn’t?”

“Our client,” Zoe fumed, looking like a waif from Hell, which she basically was. As a former human turned demon who’d crossed back to the lighter, mortal side, she’d taken to dressing like a Catholic schoolgirl. She wore a green plaid skirt that landed mid-calf, anklet socks, saddle shoes and a long-sleeved white blouse with a Peter Pan collar—a sweet, wholesome image except for her facial piercings. Four studs decorated her lower lip, two graced the bridge across her nose, a ring hung through one nostril and several adorned her dark eyebrows. The metal on her face glinted in the glow from streetlights that streamed through the windows. “The photographer’s waited ten minutes already.”

Ah, now Becca understood. He was here to shoot a demon’s ‘after’ pictures to advertise the service for male shifters, genies, reapers, demons—and otherworldly beings. Every night, the staff whipped those poor slobs into shape so they could suppress their worst otherworldly natures, along with the problems that created, and present to mortal women as hotter-than-hell guys. For the most part.

Restraining all that evil and supernatural power wasn’t easy.

Not even for a trooper like poor Zoe, one of Becca’s BFFs and the best enforcer the service had ever had. If customers got too frisky or refused to do as the other staffers asked, Zoe got on their case and made them obey. Right now, irritation smoldered in her black eyes where sparks built from pinpoints to two wiggling flames. The red-orange color was seriously at odds with her pale skin and demure outfit.

Before Zoe had a literal meltdown, Becca talked fast. “Do we know where he lives?”

Once she had the client’s location, she could send another customer to haul him in. Preferably a zombie. Those guys could give an IRS agent a run for his money. No matter what obstacles zombies faced, they kept coming and coming and coming. Not unlike the Energizer Bunny.

“He gave us an address not too far from here.” Zoe cleared the gravel from her throat that made her sound like the centuries-old demon she was. She crossed her skinny arms over her chest, possibly to control her unruly emotions. Didn’t work. Smoke rose from her long raven hair and shoulders and gave off a nasty sulfur stench. “I’ve called his cell phone twelve times. It keeps going to voice mail.” She huffed. “He was our best freaking success.”

“And we’ll get him here.” In a cage, if nothing else worked. “Tell the photographer to chill. We’ll pay overtime. Then help the staffers with our other clients.”

They filled every treatment room tonight. Their hissing, growls and howls proved mild compared to the raucous outside sounds. Despite being ninety degrees with equally high humidity, this street in the French Quarter boomed with life. Tourists, musicians, locals and businesspeople partied hearty, each unaware of what went on in the salon.

“Okay.” Zoe slumped and eyed the dust pile on Becca’s desk. “Ah…sorry for losing my cool.”

“Not a prob. It’s a very human trait.”

Zoe showed her teeth. For her, that was a grateful smile. Batting smoke away from her face, she trudged to the door, stopped and stared at the ingredients peeking out from behind the potted plants.

She didn’t ask what they were doing there or comment about her boss’s lousy magic skills.

Becca buzzed the reception desk where Heather, another BFF, greeted, scheduled and rang out customers.

No answer.

“Heather!” Becca wanted her to work on getting the AWOL client here.

Still no response.

Nothing was going right tonight, which made it like the others in their business.

Swearing, Becca hurried down the hall and searched for Heather. She wasn’t in the break room. There, two vampires guzzled bottles of imported blood. Their pasty skin was almost rosy from the workout they’d been through.

The guy on the left resembled a young Brad Pitt. He gave her a thumbs-up. The other one, a dead ringer for Colin Farrell, gave her the finger.

Becca pushed out her lower lip. “Tough night, huh?”

He hung his head. “This shit is so hard.”

“But worth it, right? You said you wanted that mortal babe who lives down the street from you.”

A longing groan poured from him, followed by a gentle sigh. “Unfortunately.”

Vamps were so cute when they craved a woman for companionship rather than her plasma. “Who said love would be easy?”

“It could be.” Hope shone in his pale gray eyes. “All I have to do is turn her then she’d be mine. For, like, always.”

The other vamp nodded in encouragement.

Becca got tough. “Doing that wouldn’t be playing fair. That’s why you’re here.”

Although these sorry souls could force mortals to their side for whatever they wanted, including adoration, love like that wasn’t earned. It never satisfied for long. Doing things the human way by wooing the girl and winning her over with nothing except their innate charm was more intoxicating than every power the mortal and paranormal world offered.

Becca had witnessed it first-hand with her parents. Years ago, her mom could have cast a spell to snare Wade Salt, the only man she’d ever loved, but she’d let nature take its course. Next month, they’d celebrate their thirtieth anniversary.

A sweet and lasting romance Becca would have liked for herself with a one-in-a-million guy. Wasn’t in the cards. When it came to males, she always struck out whether they were paras or human. “I would hope you’re not thinking of turning a woman against her will.”

The vamps shot guilty looks at each other.

They needed additional workouts. Becca made a mental note to have Heather book them every night next week. She pointed at their bottles. “Don’t waste a drop of that stuff. It’s expensive.”

The one on the left read the label. “Little wonder. Comes from European aristocracy.”

If that were true, then Becca was Chaz Bono and Paris Hilton’s love child. “Only the best for you guys.”

She rushed down the hall. Emblazoned on the walls was the company name, From Crud to Stud. Beneath those words the advertising motto read ‘Suppressing the Beast’.

A creature snarled from behind a door on the left.

Heather moaned and made pained noises. “Oh, no. Really no. Please no. Try to relax.”

Snapping noises answered her. Skittering sounds followed.

If Becca had to guess, Heather had put distance between herself and the guy’s teeth.

Zoe’s distinctive growl sounded from inside the room. “Stay over there.” Something slammed into the wall. Possibly her fist. “I’ll handle him.”

A wise plan since Heather was a good fairy whose only power lay in healing. She knew to wait until Zoe had muzzled the guy before fixing whatever he’d hurt.

Wanting Heather out here, Becca raised her fist to knock.

The front door swung open.

Heat and humidity poured inside, along with racket from the street party. Drunken voices mingled with throaty laughter, pounding drums and trumpets. The instruments reached and held their highest notes.

A guy slipped inside. At least six-three, he had an athlete’s build—lean and muscular, his shoulders broad, hips narrow, thighs powerful.

Becca’s pulse thumped in her ears, drowning out the other sounds. She stepped closer.

Classically handsome, he wore his hair preppy-style, longer on the top, shorter on the sides. Those locks were a warm chestnut brown streaked by the sun and tousled, begging for a woman to smooth them back.

Becca lowered her hand. She hadn’t intended to lift it.

His golden complexion spoke of days spent outdoors, perhaps from skinny-dipping in a pool, water streaming over his firm pecs and abs, the dark curls between his legs trapping the moisture, his rock-hard cock jutting out, inflexible as iron, sleek as a spear.

She suppressed a delighted shiver.

He wore leather loafers, beige khakis and a white dress shirt opened at the collar, the sleeves folded back to mid-forearm.

Masculine yet civilized.

The staff had done an outstanding job on this guy’s makeover. No wonder Zoe had suggested him for the advertising pieces. A fat raise for everyone was in order. Maybe even part ownership in this place. They’d made this dude over to the nth degree from…

Becca wasn’t certain what kind of demon he was or his level in Hell. She’d never met him before. Maybe he’d taken so long to get there because he couldn’t pull himself away from the god he now saw in his mirror.

He regarded the reception area as one would when seeing it for a first time or through different eyes…a reformed demon’s eyes. Potted plants and feathery ferns abounded. The faux brick floor, coral walls and gas wall fixtures radiated warmth and an earthy, sensual feel in keeping with the area’s culture.

It was also romantic.

That was why most paras signed up for the ordeals they’d face here. They were having problems with babes and wanted a solution, even if it was painful.

Hissing noises flowed from a room on the right. On the left, muffled groans sounded faintly sexual.

Could be that was why this guy was late. He’d already seduced a new lover and had been reluctant to leave her.

The thick ridge behind his fly held enormous promise. Some women had all the luck. Becca, on the other hand, had a business to run.

Reining in her desire, she joined him in the reception area. “Do you have any idea how late it is?”





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Tina is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’ Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

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COVER REVEAL & PreORDER: Exacting Revenge by Kimmie Easley

EXACTING REVENGEExecutioners MC Series, book 2by Kimmie Easley
Ronin grows hungrier. Only two things can feed his appetite. Jolene and power.With a rogue soldier and an enemy club fast on their wheels, the Executioners are left with little option to keep their family whole. Now, away from home territory, Ronin is finding out the trouble may hit closer to the heart of the club.Can he keep Jolene safe, steer his brothers in a profitable direction, and be the Soldier at Arms he’s called to be without falling on the wrong side of the pavement?Exacting Revenge is the second, spicy installment in the Executioners MC Series.Series Order: X Marks the Spot – Executioners MC (Book #1)

I try, once again, to fall asleep. Fucking impossible. I can’t rest knowing the Pistol Kings have the Executioners on their hit list. I can’t think with Jolene in danger.My only job in life is to keep her safe. She’s the only thing that matters.I watch her sleep. Her long hair is fanned out across the pillow and she must have kicked off her covers while tossing and turning. Her t-shirt has ridden up, revealing her tight tummy, and a tiny, black thong with little strings is lining her slim hips.Fuck.She owns that deep-down part of me. That small part of me that is good. I don’t know, my spirit or soul, whatever the fuck they want to call it, belongs to her.Better her than me.She stirs. “Hey baby. Come to bed.” She props herself up on one elbow. Her long locks fall around her bare shoulders. A sleepy grin curves in the corners of her full lips, still swollen from the delicious sex just hours earlier.With pleasure.I lie next to her, coiling my arms around her tiny frame. I curl her up, resting her against my inked chest. That X across my heart that connects us, forever. I can feel the rise and fall of her breath as her perfect tits move with her breathing. She’s out again. I remember back to what it was like to not have her in my life. It sends an immediate boulder straight to my gut. That’s a reality I can’t survive.


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X Marks the SpotExecutioners MC Series, book 1Jolene Miller barely escaped the dark underworld of being the president’s daughter of a notorious motorcycle club. After having her heart broken by Ronin, the MC’s Sargent at Arms, she tried to navigate a normal life as an up and coming criminal defense attorney.When the only family she’s ever known comes under fire, Jolene rushes home to Jericho, California to step in - only to find it’s not just the club who needs her.Ronin is wanted for murder.Can Jolene let go of their tortured past in order to save their future?







Kimmie is an international best selling romance author who has grown up traveling the country, rarely settling in one place for much longer than a minute. Being no stranger to heartache and pain, she allows her unconventional childhood to fuel her writing.Kimmie is addicted to all things books, wine, cupcakes, and flip flops. She is a homeschool momma, southern wife, and pug wrangler.Kimmie can be found somewhere in the south writing wine worthy stories.Facebook ✯ Website ✯ Twitter ✯ Goodreads ✯ Amazon ✯ Pinterest ✯ Intsagram ✯ Newsletter

L@@K at ME! All I Want for Halloween by Marie Harte #GIVEAWAY

ALL I WANT FOR HALLOWEENby Marie HarteGenre: Contemporary Romance


Tonight, she plans to let go.

Dressed up and anonymous, Sadie Liberato feels powerful, sexy and free. Where better to lose herself than a masked party?

Gear Blackstone's cheating ex and scheming best friend have managed to spin his life into a serious downward spiral. At least with a mask on he can cut loose for one night. And cut loose he does―with the sexiest, snarkiest chick he's ever met.

After a scorching-hot encounter, Sadie and Gear are desperate to find each other in real life. But can the heat last when the masks come off?

“Harte pens a sizzlingly sexy romance that is both playful and meaningful, exploring real and metaphorical masks, perception, and reality.” KIRKUS


He grabbed the TV remote from her hands, lifted her up and settled her on his lap while he flicked through channels.

“Hey. That’s mine.”

“I’m a guest.” He batted her grabby hands away.

“Well, you can’t stay late. I have to be up early tomorrow to set up for the festival.” Sadie told him about Sofa’s stand, where they’d be selling hot cider and goodies.

“Are you there all day? I’d call and ask you about it tomorrow, but we both know you never answer your phone.”

“Shut up about that already.” He’d swear she sounded embarrassed. “I said I’d talk to you the next time you called.”

“Gosh, Sadie. I’m the luckiest man on earth,” he said in his best Lassie’s-the-best-dog-in-the-world voice.

She shook with laughter, then yawned.

“Ah, I win. I outlasted the mean chick.”

“We’re playing a game?” she asked.

One where I win the girl if I’m careful. Oh hell. Do I want to win the girl? Then Sadie kissed the underside of his chin and snuggled close. Sugar and cherries hit him hard.

“No game, Sadie. I’m not good at playing them.”

“Me neither. I’m a lightweight. It’s sad.”

He smiled and rested his chin on top of her head. “I wouldn’t call you a lightweight. More like welterweight. Maybe light middleweight.”

She chuckled. “You’re a funny guy.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He kissed the top of her head.

“Mmm. I like that. You’re warm.” After a pause, she rubbed his pecs, and his heart gave a strangled leap. “If you’re free tomorrow, you should stop by. I’ll give you free cider.”

“Well, for free cider, I might have to.”

She nodded, her breath warm against his chest. A few moments passed, her breathing growing deeper, more even. “Gear?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Am I boring?”

He frowned. “You? Boring? You’re the least boring person I know. Scary, cantankerous—and yes, I know what that means. I do read, you know. Oh, and obnoxious. But boring? Hell no.”

He felt her smile against his chest. “Good. You aren’t either. And I’m glad Sahara cheated on you.”The hurt he felt surprised him, mostly because he hadn’t expected Sadie to be cruel.

“Because you deserve so much better than her.”

He relaxed, stunned to go from feeling high to low and back to high again. “Boring, Sadie? You? Never.” He stroked her hair, loving that she left it long, out of a ponytail.

She fell asleep in his arms, and he wondered how he could feel such bone-deep contentment with a woman he’d met only a week ago. A woman he didn’t want to leave, even though he knew it would be best for both of them in the long run.

But Gear had never been all that smart. So he carried her into her bedroom and tucked her in. The soft blue room needed further exploring, but not now. So he kissed her goodbye, fit her into a compartment in his brain, and his heart, and left, locking up as he walked out.

Once home and in bed, he set his alarm for ten. He had things to do in the morning. And people to see. One dark-haired siren in particular.





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NETGALLEY


✯✯✯✯Fun and Sexy ReadBy bookjunkie on October 1, 2017

All I Want for Halloween is a quick fast read that is more about finding yourself and love rather than the day itself.Sadie Liberato, a career gym rat is forced by her brother to attend a Halloween party where she has to interact with people when she'd rather sit at home all night on the couch and watch tv. But she happens to run into Gear Blackstone, the reality tv star of Motorcycle Madnezz. One thing leads to another and they find themselves in a compromising position.The attraction between Sadie and Gear is instant and even though the timeframe for their relationship is slim, the author does not make it cheesy. They have some hot and heavy sex scenes which makes it all the better.This is a fun and quirky novel. The banter between the characters will have you laughing out loud and wondering if these people exist in real life.This is my first book by Marie Harte, but I do plan to read more of her works in the future. Hopefully some of the supporting characters in this book will star in their own.

✯✯✯✯✯Totally loved this "tell it like it is" couple.By Marsha @ Keeper Bookshelf on October 1, 2017

I absolutely adored Sadie and Gear, they are unique personalities and their total honesty set the pace of this book. I do believe though that All I Want For Halloween won’t be for every reader. Now, I happen to love Marie Harte’s work and would never hesitate to pick up a book by her. Yet Sadie and Gear are completely in your face, tell it like it is if you don’t like it tough, a bit of a mean streak, definitely snarky, sassy and hot. They are real life-like in many harder ways. This is not your swooning, anything you say is fine babe type of couple. And I loved them even more for their reality punch.Neither Sadie nor Gear have a filter between their thoughts and their mouth. If they think it, they say it. I have a friend like them, if you don’t want her honest opinion… don’t ask because she’ll tell you far more than you ever wanted to hear. So, I’m comfortable with these characters for I “get” them.One Halloween party to cut loose, let whatever happens just happen and forget about the troubles of the rest of the world for a few short hours. What Gear and Sadie discovered was a hotter than hell relationship that fit them perfectly. Sure, there are some bumps along the way, but at their core they understand each other as no one else seems to. They’ll work out just fine, once they get over themselves.I’d recommend All I Want For Halloween to any Romance reader. Allow yourself to understand two hard, in your face people and watch how everyone has someone that is simply perfect for them. Full of hotness, humor, secondary characters that I want more of and a truly real life couple.



Caffeine addict, boy referee, and romance aficionado, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Marie Harte has over 100 books published with more constantly on the way. She’s a confessed bibliophile and devotee of action movies. Whether hiking in Central Oregon, biking around town, or hanging at the local tea shop, she’s constantly plotting to give everyone a happily ever after. Visit Marie's website and fall in love.

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OF DECEPTION AND DIVINITYDeath and Destiny Trilogy, Book 3
by N.D. JonesGenre: Paranormal Romance


The arrival of a new enemy. The start of a greater battle. A destiny to be defended.

A mighty war, waged every 500 years, has returned to the realm of mortals. And with it, the Day of Serpents arrives to wreak havoc upon the world.

Assefa and Sanura struggle to complete their mate bond, as they also continue their fight in this preternatural war of fire versus water. Unseen enemies, surprise magic attacks, and betrayal lurk at every turn for the couple, and revelations about their powers and past come to light.

As Assefa and Sanura fight to seal their bond and love, destiny and divinity may have already sealed their fate.



The sight of his change never ceased to amaze Sanura. She’d never seen a were-cat shift as effortlessly, quickly, and painlessly as Assefa. Shimmered. That word always came to mind whenever she watched him go from man to beast. He simply shimmered. The molecules that comprised his body broke apart and reconfigured themselves so swiftly that, even with Sanura’s advanced second sight, all she ever managed to see was a magical shimmer, a twinkle of light right before his Mngwa appeared.

A long, wide tongue licked her from jaw to hairline. And with a girlie squeal, she threw her arms around the humongous neck of her familiar. Gods, what a magnificent animal, Sanura’s arms barely long enough to cuddle his neck.

I believe we did this earlier, sweetheart, Assefa spoke in her mind.

“Not like this.” Burying her face in the thick black-and-gray fur of her Mngwa, Sanura smiled, loving the feel of him in her arms and the heat his close proximity brought deep within, her fire spirit anxious and happy. “I missed you.”

He knows. He missed you, too. And her.

Her inner spirit began to hiss and wail, wanting freedom from the cage Sanura kept her locked in, afraid to let the fire beast off her leash and what she’d do once emancipated.

But there, with the Mngwa, Sanura could give her inner spirit, if not absolute freedom, more than she’d had before they started performing the spirit fire ritual.

Releasing the nearly seven-hundred-pound cat, whose gigantic claws and teeth were capable of bloody, life-ending damage, she stepped away, giving him plenty of room.

For long minutes, the Mngwa circled and eyed the floor of the bedroom, his golden orbs taking in the area with a critical, discerning gaze.

“For Oya’s sake, Assefa, it’s just a floor inside our private suite. How dirty could it be? Pick a spot and lay your big behind down.”

He growled, showing lots of white, sharp teeth.

Sanura rolled her eyes and pointed to the empty floor space in front of her.

You could at least pretend to be afraid of my saber teeth. I am the predator of all predators, after all.

An arched eyebrow, hands on hips, and a foot tapping with impatience were all the response his statement deserved.

Selecting, purposefully, a location on the other side of the room, the Mngwa reclined in all his legendary glory—a true beast of beasts.

“Suit yourself.” Sanura made her way to the colossal baby, waiting for him to lie on his side when she reached him.

Climb up on your magic carpet, my fire priestess.





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Dianne c/o Tome Tender via Goodreads

Once again, N.D. Jones brings strong and passionate writing to the table with OF DECEPTION AND DIVINITY and Assefa and Sanura find the ties that bind them strained as their partial bond seems to become more of a weakness than proof that they truly are meant to be together. Sometimes one can be over-cautious, and the fear of taking a leap of faith can be terrifying. Sanura fears becoming swallowed whole by the power and wealth that is part of Assefa’s total package. Meeting his family isn’t conducive to the warm and fuzzies, either.

The tremendous weight of the prophecy looming in their near future and the terrible war that must be waged between Fire and Water. Is the pressure of their bond and their role in this battle proving too much for Sanura? Can she trust Assefa without reservation, even as his earthly job pulls him away from her? As the powerful fire witch and the massive shifter must come to terms with a prophecy that they must win to save the earth from devastation and darkness, they discover the most brutal of deceptions from one who has always been so trusted. The time is drawing near for that war to begin and their bond has not been completed, in fact they are like two splintered souls, weaker than the evil they must battle. How can they trust in a prophecy if they cannot trust in each other? Has their Fate been sealed as the darkness rises?

Heavy with emotion, tension and the weight of the future, these characters suffer from human frailties, human needs, and human deception, all while their Fate is wrapped up in a Divine prophecy that could mean their death. N.D. Jones runs wicked-hot with this addition to her series and her characters are incredibly passionate in all they do and believe. Ms. Jones’ writing is, once again, simply incredible!


Of Fear and Faith
Before trust and love can take hold, grow solid roots, and blossom into a reality larger than self, fear must be conquered and faith embraced. Yet fear of an ancient prophecy, of burning magical power, and a broken heart, Sanura Williams, psychology professor, is unprepared when Special Agent Assefa Berber enters her life, hunting a preternatural serial killer. Assefa's intelligent, chocolate eyes and intoxicating aura signature stirs her fire spirit but frightens the woman.

In a world where all is not as it seems, Sanura and Assefa must battle the gods' first creations - vile predators who threaten the safety of humans. Each confrontation, each bloody clash, will bring Sanura and Assefa closer to fulfilling the prophecy of being the Fire Witch and Cat of Legend - the ones who will save humanity from the Water Witch of Legend. Death, godly magic, and physical attraction draw Sanura and Assefa to each other, but fear and faith will determine their destiny.

Of Beasts and Bonds
In a world of mystery and magic, sometimes old bonds must be broken before new ones can be formed. Who knew that finding one’s soul mate would test bonds and unleash beasts?

Mami Wata and Oya are now free from their watery prison and ready to wage a battle five hundred years in the making. Special Agent Assefa Berber and Dr. Sanura Williams are the prophesized Cat and Fire Witch of Legend. To save the world from Mami Wata, a water goddess with a bloody thirst for power and an insatiable appetite for death and destruction, they must defeat her beasts and the Water Witch of Legend.

Assefa and Sanura are fully in love but possess only a partial mate bond. While Sanura has merged their auras, bonding Assefa’s cat spirit to her, she has yet to accept his claiming bite. Their incomplete mate bond and their new relationship are tested when Mami Wata sets her malevolent eyes on them, manipulating beasts, sacrificing humans, and creating heartache. Can their bond survive, or will they drown under the vicious tide of godly might?



N. D. Jones lives in Maryland with her husband and two children. She is the founder of Kuumba Publishing, an art, audiobook, eBook, and paperback company. Kuumba Publishing is a forum for creativity, with a special commitment to promoting and encouraging creative works of authors and artists of African descent.

A desire to see more novels with positive, sexy, and three-dimensional African American characters as soul mates, friends, and lovers, inspired the author to take on the challenge of penning such romantic reads. She is the author of two paranormal romance series: Winged Warriors and Death and Destiny. N.D. likes to read historical and paranormal romance novels, as well as comics and manga.

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