Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney's Blog, page 197

His Turn by JA Huss

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Title: His TurnSeries: Turning #3Author: JA HussGenre: Dark Erotic SuspenseRelease Date: July 4, 2017


Blurb
I look her body up and down as I circle her.Mine?I smile a devious, deviant, I’m gonna make you sorry you ever started playing this game with me smile. And then I take her hand. I lead her to the elevator. We go up to my apartment.I tie her wrists together with rope. Raise her arms above her head. And chain her to the ceiling.It’s my turn.

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Excerpt

“Why are you so nervous?” I ask Jordan. We’re sitting in Smith’s bar. The table is elaborately set for a nice dinner, our glasses are full of expensive alcohol, and our cocks are happy. Why does he look like shit is about to hit the fan? “She had a good time,” I say, sipping my brandy. “Yeah,” Jordan says. His eyes are glued to the elevator doors, just waiting for her to come downstairs. “But it was sneaky, ya know?”“What was sneaky about it?”He shoots me a look that says, Come on.“She gave in, Jordan. We didn’t make her do anything.”“Right.” He sighs. “But you’re what, just pretending we didn’t have that conversation this morning? You know, the one where you said, ‘I’m gonna fuck with her head so bad, she’ll spin like The Exorcist?’”“It was a joke.” I laugh. “All we did was make her feel good tonight. She loved every fucking minute of it. Even when I choked her with my cock. She couldn’t get enough.”“That’s because she was drunk on your dick at the time, Bric. But that feeling is gonna wear off and she’s gonna run the entire night through her head, and then—”“Then she’s gonna realize we know what the fuck we’re doing. That’s all.”“No,” he says. “She’s gonna realize you’re just playing with her emotions. Like you do with every fucking woman you’ve ever been with.”“So?”“So then she’s gonna up her game, Bric. And this is gonna turn into a mind-fuck shit-fest. I like her,” he says. “Maybe more than like her, OK? I don’t want her thinking I’m like you.”“You are like me,” I say, getting pissed off. Why the fuck is he sharing her with me if he likes her so much? But I don’t ask that question.Because I like her too. Just not in the same way.“See,” Jordan says.“See what?” I ask“That fucking evil grin you’ve got on your face. I know you well enough, Bricman. Well enough to see the Machiavellian wheels turning inside your head. Do not play with her emotions.”“Why?” I ask, my temper rising. “Is she some kind of fragile flower?” But then I realize this intrigues me.“Stop it,” Jordan says. “She’s not a puzzle, OK?”“Then why are we even playing?”He huffs out some air. Runs his fingers through his still-wet hair. “Because she’s not…” He trails off.“She’s not what?” I ask. What the fuck is wrong with him tonight?“She’s not my type.”“OK,” I say, not really understanding.“I mean I’m not really her type.”“Hmm,” I say. “Do you love her?”“No,” he says. “Definitely not. But I like her. I could see myself playing with her for a long time. And if you fuck it up, that won’t happen. You, of all people, understand how fucking hard it is to get a girl you can trust in this game. One who just gets you, ya know? We get each other, Bric. I realize it’s only been a few weeks, but we know each other. I just like her. And we have an understanding. I get to boss her around and be a dick, but she knows I’m not a dick, right? She knows I’ll show up the next day and treat her nice and give her a gift. She knows I’m just playing. We’re playing.”“It’s a game. Same as this,” I say.“Dude, come on,” he says, almost fully exasperated now. “You are a sick motherfucker, OK? You know this, right?”“Then why am I even here?”“Because we’re good together, ya know. Not great. Yet,” he adds. “Not what you had with Smith and Quin, obviously. But we understand each other. We work well as a team. She liked that up there.”“So what’s the problem?”“The problem is you’re in a weird place right now and I’m afraid you’re gonna take it out on Nadia. Don’t do that, OK?” He stares at me. “Just be…”“Just be your back-up?” I ask, huffing out a laugh.He shrugs. But that’s it. That’s what he wants. Don’t overpower him. Don’t take her away from him. Don’t make her rethink her strategy. Just help him keep her.It takes me a minute to decide if I’m angry or not. I decide I’m not. I don’t give two fucks about this Nadia girl. And my goal really wasto break her. So I shrug. “Fine,” I say. “You want a wingman. Fine. I’ll help you out, Jordan. But when I need a favor, I’ll expect the same in return.”


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Author Bio
JA Huss is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romances. She likes stories about family, loyalty, and extraordinary characters who struggle with basic human emotions while dealing with bigger than life problems. JA loves writing heroes who make you swoon, heroines who makes you jealous, and the perfect Happily Ever After ending.


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Sin With Me by Lacey Silks

Title: Sin With MeSeries: With Me #2Author: Lacey SilksGenre: Romantic SuspenseRelease Date: July 10, 2017


Blurb
Lies are necessary, mistakes are fatal, and sins unforgivable.
He’s a priest.I repeat the words daily in hope that they’ll erase the picture of a perfect man from my mind. I don’t want to look at him intimately, but I can’t stop. Could any woman stop? I’ve seen the way they ogle him and I’ve heard the whispers in town; the ones of committing the unforgivable sin with the new addition to our parish.Living in Pace was supposed to be easy, and it was, until I began seeing Father Cameron as more than a clergyman. He was kind and quiet. He was that perfect distraction I needed to forget my past.Now that my body wants him, the pull is even stronger. His presence overpowers the room, his scent lingers in my lungs for hours and his kind heart is slowly healing my pain. I pray for a resolution to my feelings but it’s not helping. My mind is clouded and my past is catching up to me without my knowledge…Wanting him is a constant, needing him feels nurturing and resisting him is impossible. After all, forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, except when it’s poisoned…
From the Author: Sin With Me is intended for mature audiences only.

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USA Today Bestselling Author Lacey Silks writes erotic and contemporary romances with a touch of suspense. Her stories come from her life, dreams and fantasies. She’s a happily married wife with two kids who uses her husband to test out the more intimate scenes for her writing – he said he doesn’t mind it at all. 
Lacey likes to make her readers blush and experience the story as if they were the characters. Drawing on the reader’s most sensitive emotions through realistic stories satisfies her more than… …ok not really, but you get the point ;)
She likes a pinkish shade on a woman’s cheeks, men with large feet and sexy lingerie-especially when it’s torn off the body. Her favorite piece of clothing is a birthday suit.

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The Unrequited by Saffron A. Kent

Title: The UnrequitedAuthor: Saffron A. KentGenre: Contemporary/Erotic Romance
Cover Design: Najla Qamber DesignsRelease Date: July 13, 2017


Blurb
Layla Robinson is not crazy. She is suffering from unrequited love. But it’s time to move on. No more stalking, no more obsessive calling.
What she needs is a distraction. The blue-eyed guy she keeps seeing around campus could be a great one—only he is the new poetry professor—the married poetry professor.
Thomas Abrams is a stereotypical artist—rude, arrogant, and broody—but his glares and taunts don’t scare Layla. She might be bad at poetry, but she is good at reading between the lines. Beneath his prickly façade, Thomas is lonely, and Layla wants to know why. Obsessively.
Sometimes you do get what you want. Sometimes you end up in the storage room of a bar with your professor and you kiss him. Sometimes he kisses you back like the world is ending and he will never get to kiss you again. He kisses you until you forget the years of unrequited love; you forget all the rules, and you dare to reach for something that is not yours.
NOTE: Please be aware that this book deals with sensitive topics like cheating and death. 18+ Only.

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Thomas & Layla's First Kiss
It’s Saturday and I’m at The Alchemy with Emma, Dylan, and Matt. We find a table in the middle of the room and Emma thumps the big bag of goodies down on it. It’s prompt night for the Labyrinth and Emma is in charge of producing the prompts.“Explain to me one more time why you need this giant-ass bag again?” Matt says, taking off his coat and hanging it on the chair as he takes a seat.Dylan gives him a disdainful look. “She’s got her prompts in it, dumbass.”Emma smiles in pleasure, her eyes on the bag as she looks for something. It’s adorable how shy she is in front of him when she’s normally so self-assured. Dylan and Emma have gone on a few dates this week. Turns out, Dylan loved the tangerine. I knew it.“And why can’t you show them a picture or something on your phone?” He bumps his shoulder with mine. “Back me up here, Layla. This freaking bag is a monstrosity.”“I don’t have a problem with it, actually,” I say. “It’s kind of fun to look at something while writing about it.”When Emma told me about the Labyrinth’s prompt night, my first reaction was panic. I didn’t think I could be a part of it. I wasn’t prepared. I haven’t even read all the books I own. Reading has become a vital part of my life, now. In the past week, I’ve only roamed on the street once. I haven’t been to Thomas’ house at all. I stay up late reading. There’s so much to discover, and I’ve been living inside this fog for so long. I feel like time is running out on me. I’ll probably die before reading all the books out there. I try to calm myself. I’m here to be a part of something greater than me—art—and I don’t have to be perfect. The only thing I should be worried about is seeing Thomas.It’s been six days since I cried in front of him, told him my ugly love story, and sort of licked his hand, trying to taste him. Since then I’ve seen him all around campus, at Crème and Beans with Nicky, in the corridors at the Labyrinth when Emma dragged me to a play reading. I’ve even seen him in the park, at the bench, the one time I went out at night. He was smoking and battling with himself, as usual, and I was hiding behind the tree.  It’s like he’s everywhere. My secret keeper. The one person who knows what I did.And he is disgusted by me. He never looks at me. To him, I’m invisible. Somehow, this hurts even more because deep down I thought he could relate to me, but he doesn’t. I really am a freak of nature.The front door of the bar opens and in strides Sarah Turner, followed by Professor Masters and Thomas. The snowflakes swirl behind his back as he enters and the door swings shut.“Hello children,” Professor Masters greets us in a jovial voice as he saunters forward. There is a chorus of chuckles and Hi Professor around the room. Without paying attention to anyone, Thomas breaks off from the trio and heads for the bar. Sarah throws him an annoyed look but Professor Masters steers her toward their destination. Thomas orders a drink and sits on the barstool, his long legs straddling the small seat. He takes off his jacket, revealing a plain grey t-shirt that stretches across his shoulders and biceps. His jean-covered thighs bulge as he bounces his right leg with impatience. The bartender sets down a chocolate martini in front of him and I look away, embarrassed. His weakness for chocolate awakens something raw and melty inside my stomach. I haven’t thought about what I’ll do come Monday. Will I go back to class? Will I hide and never show my face again?Emma gets up from beside me, greets the room, and explains the instructions. She digs inside her bag and fishes something out. “So the first prompt is this bottle of hot sauce. You have to write a short poem, no more than twenty lines, with whatever comes to mind when you see a red bottle with H.O.T. written on it. I’m going to pass this around for a bit so you guys can look at it.”My first thought is that I hate hot sauce. I’m more of a sweet-loving person. In fact, I’m the only sweet-loving person in my family or the families I’ve had over the years. My mom, Caleb, my dad, Caleb’s dad, even Henry—they all shy away from sweet things.The thought of Caleb makes me aware of the phone in my jacket pocket. Since those missed calls at Crème and Beans, he’s called several times, but I haven’t picked up. I was hoping he’d leave a message or something so I’d know what it’s about, but he hasn’t. Why does he keep calling me? As impulsive as I am, a strange fear is keeping me from taking his call. Emma bumps my elbow and tells me to get writing.Right, hot sauce. I nibble at my pen, trying to think…no, trying to feel. How does hot sauce make me feel? H.O.T. Feel. Feel. I close my eyes and the first thing I see is Thomas’ face. His beautiful, intense gaze. How every molecule of my body, every inch of my flesh burns when he is near. How he has the power to change the weather, cold to hot. Gasping, my eyes whip open. Thomas Abrams is a fire-breather. He breathes flames and lust, makes me forget everything and say yes. Yes to obsession. Yes to stalking. Yes to insanity. Yes to licking.With shaking hands, I begin to write and capture him in words. The pen moves and the words flow out. They keep flowing without my knowledge. All I can feel is the heat seesawing through my body. Next thing I know I’m jolted by Emma’s clap and shrill voice. “All right guys, it’s time to stop. Put down your pens.” Murmurs escalate and the room breaks out in conversation, as Emma asks someone to volunteer their poem first. With flushed cheeks, I pocket my small notebook. While the entire room is busy, I get up and shuffle into the hallway in the back. I need to get to the ladies’ room and calm myself down. I rub my arms at the unexpected chill in the dank hallway and take a deep breath. My legs can barely support themselves. Is this how poets feel when they put feelings into words? Is this how Thomas feels? It’s like bleeding. It’s like running for miles and running out of breath. Before I can reach my destination, I’m being hauled into a dark, tiny room. I don’t even have time to squeal before the flimsy wooden door is shut, and I’m surrounded by a very familiar heat. It’s Thomas.He has me trapped inside what looks to be a storage room, his hand banded around my elbow, pushing me back against the dank wall. “T-Thomas.” I’m panting. “What… What’s happening? What’re you doing?”His chiseled face is a study of thick shadows and thin slices of light under the flickering yellow bulb. The only bright spots on his features are those fire-starting eyes of his. I can smell the delicious smoke rising from my body, can feel the sting.Now that the initial shock is gone, my body sags, relieved to be the center of his attention after days. He sees us. There are things to worry about, I know that, but I can’t muster the energy to. “Thomas?” I whisper when it’s clear he won’t say anything. “Wh-What are you doing?”His breaths are choppy, short jabs of air inhaled and exhaled as he stares at every inch of my face. “Do you still love him?”“What?”“Do you still love that guy?”“I… Yes.”“How much?” My breaths match his, succinct and sharp. I study him, this man in front of me. There’s a hint of vulnerability to him. His usually cool persona is frayed. Is it because I told him my story? Maybe he relates to me after all.“Thomas, what’s going on?” “How much do you love him, Layla? Do you love him so much that you hate yourself? That you can’t stand your own sight? Do you constantly think about how to fix it? How to make it better? How to be better?”He isn’t merely frayed—he’s coming apart. Naked agony dances on his features. It’s too bright and glaring. It’s too similar to mine, but I’m not worried about that right now. I’m worried about him. “Yes,” I whisper. I lift my hand and press it to his stubbled face. His cheekbone is arched and high, seemingly made of granite as it pulses beneath my palm. “But I’m so tired of it,” I admit, and his eyes flare. Fire-breathing eyes. I wonder why I didn’t notice it before. It’s so obvious now. They never fail to start a fire in my soul.He crowds me against the wall, as if sinking his hard body into mine, but there isn’t any touch involved. His frame sort of hovers over me, heating me up, jumpstarting my nerves. I’m a mesh of live wires, firing lust and adrenaline. I’m sticky as sugar and drunk as whiskey.Thomas arranges his body and places both his palms on the wall, caging me in. The vein on his bicep becomes taut, a purple string tugging on my senses.I watch him watch my parted lips, and suddenly, it’s the only piece of my body I can feel. My mouth, throbbing, puffy, swollen with the need. “Me too,” he whispers, almost to himself. I wasn’t meant to hear it, but I did. Again, I’m hit by a storm of desire to kiss him better. It’s a tornado, an avalanche in my body, and in one breathless moment, I decide to go for it. It’s okay. I can take the blame for it later. I break the rules and reach up and kiss him. A feathery peck on his plump lips, it’s a kiss of solidarity, a kiss that intends to tell him I understand—but one isn’t enough. It only manages to ratchet up my lust. So I give him another, this time on the corner of his mouth, and then another one on his jaw. It’s not enough, these small, barely-there touches. I want more, but I won’t take it. I’ll be good; I’ll only give. Abruptly, he fists my curls and stops me. I look at him fearfully, ready to apologize—not for the kiss, but for being the kisser. His gaze reflects passion, stark, raving need, and I shiver, despite wearing layers and sweating with his heat.“Are you trying to kiss me, Layla?” he rasps, flexing his fingers on my makeshift ponytail. He couldn’t tell? Blush rises to the surface and I know I’m glowing like a neon sign. Swallowing, I nod. “Yes.”He inches closer to me, still not touching—as impossible as that is—but infinitely closer. “You want to kiss me, Miss Robinson, you do it right.”Oh God, does he have to call me that? Now, here? My spine arches on its own and my heavy tits graze the contours of his shuddering chest.“H-How?” I ask innocently, belying the daring action of my body. His stern, professor-y voice is doing things to me, making me wild, uncontrolled.For a second, he’s silent, just watching. I’m afraid he’ll back out from whatever this is, whatever insanity we’re about to commit—but then I sense the shift in the liquor-laced air as he opens his mouth and growls, “Like this.” Twisting my hair in his grasp, he swallows my lips in his mouth. He sucks on the shape of my sensitive flesh and all I can do is let him. I put my palms on his shoulders, feeling the heated muscles under the soft material of his t-shirt. His chest shifts and slides over my breasts, like a wave of water. I want to be drenched with it. I want every drop of his sweat, his lust on every inch of my skin. I pull him toward me so he can crush me with his massive weight. He doesn’t budge though. He stands there, unfazed, still devouring my lips, immobile. His tongue thrusts in and licks me from the inside—the roof of my mouth, my tongue, my teeth. He is after my essence, the special taste that lives deep. He growls when he gets it, my flavor, and the pressure of his grip on my hair increases tenfold. It’s painful, but not enough to tamp down my arousal. I give up my attempts to bring him to me. Rather, I go to him. I lift my leg and wrap it around his waist. My hands creep up and lock around his neck. I climb him like an ivy, toxic and poisonous and shameless. I press my body to his and kiss him back with everything I am. I pour my soul into it. For these few moments, I become a balm to his pain. But it doesn’t last long. My selfishness and my need for him take over. My core starts leaking and it becomes hard to remember I’m only meant to give, not to take. I rotate my hips, searching for that magical friction against the ridged planes of his body. Then I feel it—his erection against my upper tummy. It’s huge. Hard. A heated rod. It’s alive, and when I move against it, I feel it throb. A tortured moan rips out of his chest.Thomas tears his mouth away from me and even my soul mourns the loss. We stare at each other, gasping for breath. I’m still clung around him and his cock is still nestled between our aroused bodies. I adjust my thigh around his hip, and it throbs with the small movement.“Don’t fucking move,” he tells me, emphasizing it with a tug on my hair.“Okay.” I swallow. “I’m sorry.” A pained chuckle. “For what?”“I made you kiss me.”The legendary tic makes its appearance at the heel of my words. It drums on his jaw like a secondary heart, or maybe a time bomb. “You did, didn’t you?”Unable to talk, I simply nod. In answer, he lodges his thigh between my legs and presses on my core. It’s an electric shock multiplied by a strike of lightning, and I almost burst into flames.“Wh-What…” I try to speak but he increases the pressure, eliciting a moan from me.“Why?” he whispers, noting my lusty reactions. “Why did you make me do it, Layla?”“Because I—”Again, he repeats his movements, reducing me to wordless, needy moans. What is he doing?“Because you what?” “Because I do this kind of thing. I-I’m selfish and bad…” I moan, doused in shame and arousal. “I take what I want because I can’t control myself. I don’t want to.”“And you want me, don’t you?” When I don’t answer, he tugs on my hair sharply. “You want me, Layla.”It’s not a question, but still I nod my head. Yes, I want him. I’ve wanted him since the first time I saw him. I want him more and more with each passing day. I want him because he’s like me. He’s in unrequited love and I want to save him, somehow. His eyes shine with satisfaction, a sense of victory at my answer. He loves my desperation and it makes me hornier. We’re so fucked, my omniscient heart says. I agree.“I can do whatever I want with you and you’ll let me. Isn’t that right, Layla?” He licks his lips as if savoring his own words. “I can tell you to jump and you’ll ask how high. I can tell you to strip and you’ll strip as if your clothes are on fire.” “Yes,” I moan. He rewards me by grinding his muscular thigh and my cunt pulses. My lust-addled brain commands me to move, to chase the friction, and I do it. I slide up and down his maddening leg, digging my nails into his scalp as the pleasure mounts. I feel the angry and rhythmic jerk of his cock on my stomach and I love it. I love the fact that I’ve shed all my inhibitions and am reduced to this, a lust-drunk puppet. I love that it gives Thomas pleasure. He isn’t sad anymore, or vulnerable. Yes, I love all that.His pain has become my pain, and it’s going to make me come on his leg. I watch Thomas with hazy eyes. I watch the arrogant slope of his flushed cheeks. I watch his dilated pupils, his wet, parted lips. All the while, I’m moving, humping his leg. Up and down. Up and down.“Of course you will,” he rasps. “Will you come for me, Layla?”I jerk out a nod. In the back of my mind, I know how wrong this is, how shameful, but I can’t stop myself. As Thomas said, I’ll do anything for him in this moment.My movements are haphazard now, jerky, epileptic. I want it so bad. I want my cum to gush so hard it seeps through my panties and leaves a wet patch on his jeans.The graphic, vulgar thought pushes me over the edge. Hard and moaning, I come, just the way I wanted—no, just the way he wanted. I was simply following his orders. My mind is filled with cotton and shooting stars and static. I want to bask in it forever. Oh God, it’s so good. So good.The pressure on my body eases. I don’t feel his muscles between my legs, and the harsh grip on my hair has vanished. In the wake of my orgasm, Thomas has let me go, and in turn, forced me to unwind my body from his. I’m still recovering from my climax, leaning against the wall for balance, but I try to focus. Thomas is watching me, intensely, his flaming eyes working double-time to take me in, his hands on either side of my head.“Do you understand what I’m telling you, Layla? Can you hear your heart beating? Is it trying to pound through your chest? Do you think you can control it? Tell it to calm down? Your hips are still shaking. I bet you’re still leaking cum, aren’t you? Do you think you can control any of that?” I shake my head. “Yeah, that’s right. You’d be surprised to know how many things aren’t your fault at all.” His eyes bore into mine, as if telling me the importance of his declaration. For a second, I can’t make the connection between what he’s telling me and what happened here, but then I get it. He’s absolving me. He’s rendering me blameless for kissing him, for making him kiss me. I wonder if this absolution includes what happened with Caleb. Am I free of those sins too?My heart scoffs. Are you kidding? We tricked him into having sex. “I saw you,” I blurt out without thinking. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know in my bones that this will destroy whatever kindness he’s harboring toward me. “Through the window,” I add, because I can’t handle not being blamed. Everything is always my fault. The broken vases at home. Muddy footprints on the tile floors. The missing bottles of liquor from the cabinet. Caleb’s missing underwear. The fact that he ran off to college a month early and won’t even visit home. The fact that I shoplifted, drank and drove numerous times, crashed parties, broke my mom’s ice sculpture. It’s all my fault. It’s just like me to do those things. I want Thomas’ accusation too. “I saw how lonely you were. I saw the anger on your face, the way you…the way you paced around the room, like you were trapped.” The scene plays in my head: his frantic steps, his hands tugging at his hair. Then the scene changes and I’m outside his bedroom window. “And-And then you were with her—Hadley. I… You were talking and you looked so sad and angry, and then she left. I kept watching your back and your shoulders. They were so tight and I could see the effort it took you to keep yourself together. Then you picked up a vase and I thought you’d throw it against the wall, break it, because I know your heart was breaking, but you held on to it. You set it down gently. You were better than me. I-I could never have done that.”Nothing moves on his body. I don’t know if he’s breathing, if he’s even seeing me. “Thomas, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to see it. I…”Then he shifts on his feet and the overhead light slashes his face into two halves of shadow and light. He appears beastly, like an animal with bright eyes and hard face. For the first time since I began my confession, I feel a tinge of true fear. I can see he wants to do something, maybe harm me physically. His body is taut with violence. He looks bigger, enlarged with the barely leashed control. For a second, I think he does lose control. His hands jerk and ball into fists, but then he takes a shallow, choppy breath. “Stay the fuck away from me,” he says softly, deadly.  With that, he marches out of the storage room.





Author Bio
Writer of bad romances. Coffee Addict. White Russian Drinker. Imaginary Ballet Dancer and poetess. Aspiring Lana Del Ray of the book world.

I'm a big believer in love (obviously). I believe in happily ever after, the butterflies and the tingling. But I also believe in edgy, rough and gutsy kind of love. I believe in pushing the boundaries, darker (sometimes morally ambiguous) emotions and imperfections.

The kind of love I write about is flawed just like my characters. And I hope by the end of it, you'll come to root for them just as much as me. Because love, no matter where it comes from, is always pure and beautiful. 



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Train Wreck by T. Gephart

Title: Train WreckAuthor: T. GephartGenre: Romantic ComedyRelease Date: July 10, 2017


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“No passion, no emotion, no originality—a train wreck of epic portions.”
Those were the words to describe Eve Thorton’s exhibition. Not even a fine arts degree from Yale or her daddy’s bank account could save her from the scathing reviews. And failure was a word Eve would never be comfortable with. Not even close.
Plotting the demise of every critic who’d written her off was her first instinct. But that would come later. Instead, she would show them that she wasn’t a bored socialite with more money than talent.
She would prove everyone wrong, and she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. But when her journey for redemption crashed headfirst into Josh Logan, the sexy, talented tattooist from Queens, getting her hands dirty took on a whole new meaning.
Josh was everything Eve wasn’t, translating on skin what she couldn’t onto her canvas. All she had to do was convince him to share his jaw-dropping brilliance, and help her—seeing him naked—a bonus. Then she could go back to her regular life, vindicated.
It should have been easy. Pity her plans had a habit of derailing.

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Author Bio
T Gephart is an indie author from Melbourne, Australia.

T's approach to life has been somewhat unconventional. Rather than going to University, she jumped on a plane to Los Angeles, USA in search of adventure. While this first trip left her somewhat underwhelmed and largely depleted of funds it fueled her appetite for travel and life experience.

With a rather eclectic resume, which reads more like the fiction she writes than an actual employment history, T struggled to find her niche in the world.

While on a subsequent trip the United States in 1999, T met and married her husband. Their whirlwind courtship and interesting impromptu convenience store wedding set the tone for their life together, which is anything but ordinary. They have lived in Louisiana, Guam and Australia and have traveled extensively throughout the US. T has two beautiful young children and one four legged child, Woodley, the wonder dog.

An avid reader, T became increasingly frustrated by the lack of strong female characters in the books she was reading. She wanted to read about a woman she could identify with, someone strong, independent and confident and who didn't lack femininity. Out of this need, she decided to pen her first book, A Twist of Fate. T set herself the challenge to write something that was interesting, compelling and yet easy enough to read that was still enjoyable. Pulling from her own past "colorful" experiences and the amazing personalities she has surrounded herself with, she had no shortage of inspiration. With a strong slant on erotic fiction, her core characters are empowered women who don't have to sacrifice their femininity. She enjoyed the process so much that when it was over she couldn't let it go.

T loves to travel, laugh and surround herself with colorful characters. This inevitably spills into her writing and makes for an interesting journey - she is well and truly enjoying the ride!

Based on her life experiences, T has plenty of material for her books and has a wealth of ideas to keep you all enthralled.


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The Botanist By Dahlia Donovan

Author: Dahlia DonovanTitle: The BotanistSeries: The Sin Bin, Book 2.5Genre: Gay RomanceRelease Date: August 26, 2017Publisher: Hot Tree PublishingCover Designer: Claire Smith
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Wyatt “Earp” Hardy is a US Navy SEAL. His life begins and ends with those two words. He readily risks himself for the men under his command. Trouble is—he can’t live for them during a time when military policy weighs heavily on who he is.
Researching for his master’s thesis, botanist Aled Demers’s life is about to unravel. One torturous nightmare run-in with drug runners leaves him permanently scarred. He knows he’s lucky to be alive after being rescued by a group of SEALs, but suffering from PTSD takes its toll.
The SEAL and the botanist come from different worlds, but one rescue links them together. Can Aled recover enough strength to risk his heart? Will Wyatt’s leaving the navy force him to reassess more than just his career choices?
The Botanist is a short story introducing two key members to The Sin Bin series. 

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~~~~~~~
Other Books in The Sin Bin Series
The Wanderer Book 1 books2read.com/wanderer
The Caretaker Book 2 books2read.com/caretaker
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon
Dahlia Donovan wrote her first romance series after a crazy dream about shifters and damsels in distress. She prefers irreverent humour and unconventional characters. An autistic and occasional hermit, her life wouldn’t be complete without her husband and her massive collection of books and video games.

Girl Unseen By Athena Daniels

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Title: Girl UnseenAuthor: Athena DanielsSeries: Beyond the Grave, Book 3Genre: Romantic SuspenseRelease Date: May 9, 2017



Some secrets aren’t meant to stay buried… 
Pia has made a dead girl a promise. One that she is determined to keep. But is she prepared for the nightmare that’s about to be unleashed?
When Pia Williams, a gifted psychic medium, is contacted by the traumatized spirit of a young girl, her search to uncover the truth begins. The more Pia learns about the girl’s gruesome fate, the more determined she is to bring those responsible to justice. But is she prepared for the shocking truth of what she’s about to expose?
With more questions than answers, one thing becomes clear to Pia: the girl’s spirit is uniquely powerful, and she’s killing from beyond the grave. Who—or what—is the girl now? A victim, or a demon with murderous intentions? What really happened to her? And how far will Pia go to help her get revenge?
Accused of a murder the spirit commits, Pia reaches out to the only man who can help her: ex-Special Forces detective Nate Ryder. A man who is as dangerous to her heart as the situation she seeks his help with. Nate would move mountains for the woman he loves, but how can he protect her against forces he can’t even see?
As Pia and Nate are swept into an unpredictable situation brimming with dark, evil intent, they soon discover they have more to fear from the living than they ever did from the dead… 
***Girl Unseen is Book 3 in the award-winning Beyond the Grave series, but can be read as a standalone.

Amazon: US | UK | AU | CABarnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo


Other Books in the Beyond the Grave Series
The Seer's Daughter Book 1  Available HERE
The Alchemist's Son Book 2 Available HERE
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon
Athena Daniels is the award-winning author of the Beyond the Grave paranormal romance series and the romantic thriller Desperate. In 2016, Athena was nominated for Author of the Year and Best New Author in AusRom Today’s Reader’s Choice Awards.
Her novel The Seer’s Daughter was the solo Medalist Winner in the Suspense/Thriller category of the 2016 New Apple Annual Book Awards for Excellence in Independent Publishing. 
The Seer’s Daughter was a finalist in the 2016 Readers’ Favorite® International Book Awards. The Seer’s Daughter was also nominated for 2016 Book of the Year and 2016 Cover of the Year in AusRom Today’s Reader’s Choice Awards.
The Seer’s Daughter was a Top Pick at The Romance Reviews and was featured in AusRom Today’s January 2016 top-twenty list of “Lust-Have Sci-Fi, Paranormal, and Fantasy Novelists.”
Athena has a natural curiosity about the “more” there is in life, and holds several qualifications in metaphysics and natural therapies. She is a neuro-linguistic programming (NLP) practitioner, life coach, and feng shui specialist.
Sign up for Athena's newsletter HERE.
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Strays by Mara McBain

  Title: StraysBy: Mara McBainPublication Date: July 7, 2017Genre: RomanceCover Designer: Q Design Cover & Brand#straysblitz They were just strays … lost souls no one wanted. It can always get worse. Ripped away from her addict mother at eight only to be thrust into a new hell, those words have become etched on Cali’s soul. Life in the system has only reinforced them. Now, getting ready to step out on her own, she’s making plans and hoping against hope to break the cycle. Running for her life in a thunderstorm isn’t the way she’d expected to start. Keep your head down and work hard. It was the grown-up version of, out of sight, out of mind. It was how he had survived the hell of foster care. That, and running, but Jarek is done running. Finally, he has a place to call his own. Working construction, he builds things for strangers all day. At night, he renovates his dream home one piece at a time. He never expected to find the most important piece hiding under a wet tarp. Can Jarek show Cali that it can get better? Can two damaged souls learn to love and trust enough to build a life together?
AMAZON US - http://amzn.to/2sJoeFXAMAZON UK - https://goo.gl/WuHJLgAMAZON CA - https://goo.gl/np6cEG Mara McBain grew up in rural Indiana where she still lives with her husband of twenty-five years. Even in a population of under three thousand, she is an introvert that prefers quiet over crowds, and often only leaves the house under protest. Reading and writing are her escape and passion. Last year, her other passion graduated from High School and joined the Army. ♥ Being an empty nester and an Army Mom has been a new experience, but one she is slowly settling into. If you take a peek, you will find a range of genres in Mara's bibliography. One book is not always like the next. She writes the story the characters whisper. So, she encourages you to look at the pretty covers, read the blurbs and find the tales that speak to you. ♥
Social Media LinksFacebook - https://www.facebook.com/mara.mcbainGoodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5786678.Mara_McBainWebsite - www.MaraMcBain.comTwitter - @MaraMcBain 2 GIVEAWAYSMara's Facebook Giveaway!1) A signed paperback copy of STRAYS 2) A signed set of The Trinity Falls Series 3) A Lords of Mayhem t-shirt 4) A $20 Amazon Gift Card 5) Your choice of a signed Paperback copy of any of Mara McBain or Anneliese Brand’s current Bibliography!Enter Here - https://www.facebook.com/mara.mcbain a Rafflecopter giveaway

JUST THE THING by Marie Harte

JUST THE THINGThe Donnigans series, book 2
by Marie HarteGenre: Spicy Contemporary Romance



"The sultry sex and seduction scenes are just the icing on this incredibly rich and satisfying cake. Readers will sit down, read this book from cover to cover in one sitting, and then pick it up to read it all over again."―RT Book Reviews, 5 Gold Stars

A FLING MIGHT BE JUST THE THING...

Gavin Donnigan left the Marine Corps a shell of a man, hounded by guilt for deaths he couldn't prevent. But teaching a self-defense class at the local gym brings some stability to his life―along with a gorgeous woman who won't give him the time of day.

Zoe York lost her twin sister to a freak car accident a few months ago. She's been struggling to bury her grief, but it isn't until she signs up for a self-defense class with its distractingly hot instructor that she begins to come out of her shell again. With the memory of her sister telling her to live a little, Zoe decides a fling with buns-of-steel Gavin Donnigan might be just the thing.

Soon they're sparring both in and out of the gym. And for the first time in a long time, each is looking forward to tomorrow.



Gavin chuckled, then turned to Zoe, only to see her watching him, her gaze intense. “What?” She looked like she either wanted to run him over, punch him, or—dare he hope—kiss him.

“I’m just waiting for one of your incredibly fascinating comments about pink pants, small biceps, or fine form.” She didn’t sound too winded, yet she’d been on the machine for a good ten minutes at least. She was in phenomenal shape—those yoga pants didn’t lie.

He frowned. “Hey now, your biceps are just fine. Nothing small about them.” He didn’t recall ever criticizing her shape.

“I meant yours,” she said drily.

“You really are mean.”

She scowled. “I am not.”

“You are. That’s why I like you.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say.” Her lips curled, and his heart raced.

“Yet true.” Before a nearby musclehead could jump on the machine that opened up next to her, Gavin stepped in front of him, blocking the way. “Sorry, man. I’m training her.” He turned around, searching for a free machine. “There you go. That one just opened up.” He pointed out a machine in front of them before facing Zoe again.

The guy gave him an odd look and shrugged. “Well, I’m not gonna kiss you, but I get it. Poor bastard.” He chuckled and walked away, no harm no foul.

Before Gavin could ask what the guy was talking about, Zoe cut in, “Training me? Liar.” She slowed her machine to a walk.

Gavin put on a hurt look. “But I am training you. To smile. Slowly but surely, I’m working on that last nerve. The same one I’m constantly rubbing the wrong way on everyone else, according to my siblings. They, like you, have no appreciation for my sense of humor.” He bent over to touch his toes, luring her with his flexibility. When he straightened, he noticed the strange look she gave him.

Zoe glanced at him a moment more before grinning. Man, she had one sexy mouth. “Oh, I don’t know. I appreciate humor as much as the next gal.”

“Yeah?” He stared in awe. Her bright eyes were so…blue.

“How about this?” She added a husky laugh that shot sparks through his chest and radiated all over his body.

“You have a great laugh. You should do it more often.”

“Oh, I will.” She chuckled some more. “Thanks, Gavin. You really made my night.” Then she shocked the hell out of him when after getting off her machine, she leaned close to kiss him on the cheek.

“Th-thanks.” God willing, he could control himself with the woman. “Not that I don’t deserve that, but what made you kiss me? Uncontrollable lust? Finally owning up to your feelings? Realizing you’re in love with my charming self?”

She looked on the verge of exploding with mirth. “You sure you want to know?”

“Well, yeah, before we set our wedding date, at least.” He grinned at her. But she laughed again, and he had a feeling it was at—not with—him. He frowned. “Okay, what?”

She cleared her throat, her humor still plain to see. “Well, Smoky, there’s a sign on your back that says Kiss me if you pity men with small brains.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I feel for you. It’s not your fault size really does matter.” She snickered again before leaving him busy staring over his shoulder at the mirrored wall behind him.






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A SURE THING

Meet the Donnigans

With the eldest Donnigan brothers adjusting to civilian life, their younger sister constantly in trouble, and their little brother clueless about life in general, falling in love is the last thing on anyone's mind...

Can this Bossy Badass Marine...

The Marine Corps was everything Landon Donnigan ever wanted in life...until a bullet sent him home with a medical discharge. Teaching a self-defense class at the gym is old-hat for a marine, but when he meets sexy Ava Rosenthal, his combat skills are useless for protecting his heart.

Be her Mr. Right?

Ava can take care of herself and likes quiet, bookish men-not muscular warriors who think women need to be coddled. But Landon is more than he seems, and when they come together, the results are explosive.




THE ONLY THINGReleasing in 2018, date TBD

On the cusp of turning thirty, Hope Donnigan is getting her life together. She’s working in a job she likes, has good friends, and has finally stopped dating Mr. Wrong. Entirely. So she should have no problem ignoring J.T. Webster. He’s big, bad, and totally what she should be steering clear of.

J.T. fell for the hot blonde months ago at his sister’s wedding. Having seen what love did to his father, he’s never felt close to a permanent relationship with a woman. But Hope gets to him. When he agrees to be her pretend boyfriend to annoy her mother, he never expects their fake relationship will be better than anything real he’s ever had. Before he knows it, he’s falling in love and not sure what to do about it.

But someone else wants Hope all to himself, and that someone isn’t happy about J.T. being in the picture. Soon, J.T. and Hope will have to deal with a secret admirer, her protective family, his annoyed sister, and their feelings for each other, which aren’t so pretend. But sometimes, there’s only one thing to do when you’re falling in love. And that’s let yourself go.




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.

Facebook ✯ Website ✯ Twitter ✯ Goodreads ✯ Amazon


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Sketches of My Soul

Young Adult ContemporaryDate Published: June 20, 2017

In the game of life, I was used to being on the losing team. The odds were stacked against me. Tegan’s Team—a mom who tried to control me, a dad who would rather drink then spend time being a father, a lying ex-boyfriend, and fake friends. Like any team however, you have that one shining star that stood out above the rest. For me that star was Emily, my best friend. I guess life had pity on me the day it gave me a friend that always had my back. Life must have felt extra giving the day it gave me a cheer leader—Mrs. White, my next-door neighbor. She’d been more of a parent to me growing up then my own parents. 
And then there was Andrew. He was my shooting star. One that I never saw coming.  One that I hoped became mine over the summer of my senior year.
A glimpse into a crystal ball couldn’t have prepared me for that summer, though. The summer where a letter from my mom rocked me to the core. I felt the world shake with every word I read in that letter. By the time I reached the end, my world split wide open swallowing me whole. 

Excerpt
Thanks to the humid air, my hair looked like a frizzy mess, so I swept it up into a high ponytail and fastened it. Just about to head out the front door to wait for Emily on the porch swing, I heard Dad stumble into the kitchen from the garage.With a deep breath, I spun around and strolled into the kitchen. Dad took a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and poured the amber liquid into a glass, spilling some on the counter. His body swayed as he turned and sloshed whiskey onto the floor. It took him a minute to realize that I stood in the doorway watching him. His glazed eyes caught mine. He slurred, “Hi, baby girl.”“Hi, Dad. I’m going out with Emily. She’ll be here in a minute.” I held my voice steady even though I wanted to shout and yell that he’d left me alone on my birthday to get drunk. But what would be the point? It wouldn’t change anything.“Emmmily. Tell her to come in. I haven’t seen her in a while.” He staggered toward me.       “We’re in a hurry. She can’t come in this time. Why don’t you sit down and watch TV? There are lots of war movies on.” I grasped his arm and steered him toward the living room. “Warrr movies ...” He fell onto the couch. I steadied the drink in his hand so it didn’t spill everywhere. Experience had taught me not to try to take it from him—much easier to get him to go along with what I say if I just let him have it. I flipped the TV channel to an old war movie and headed back to the kitchen. After I’d hidden all the keys, and cleaned up the spilled whiskey, I checked on him one more time. His head hung forward with his eyes shut. Carefully, I nudged his head back against a throw pillow. His grip tightened on the glass when I tried to take it from him, so I just left it. Headlights shone in the front window when Emily turned into my driveway. Through blurred eyes, I kissed his forehead, and then walked out the door.



About the Author

TC Booth was born and raised in a small Ohio town where she currently lives with her husband, children, and fur covered baby Sammy.
She is an award-winning author who loves to read and write young adult fiction. Besides her book addiction, TC enjoys music, attending Cavs games, going to the beach, eating chocolate and spending time with her family.
Contact Links
WebsiteFacebookTwitter:@BoothTammiBlog
Purchase Links
AmazonBarnes and Noble
The Prequel is currently free via BookFunnel by signing up for the Author's newsletter:https://dl.bookfunnel.com/ns64a3yjok
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The Caretaker By Dahlia Donovan

Author: Dahlia DonovanTitle: The CaretakerSeries: The Sin Bin, Book 2
Genre: Gay RomanceRelease Date: July 8, 2017Publisher: Hot Tree PublishingCover Designer: Claire Smith
 On sale for $2.99 
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Nurse Freddie Whittle devotes every fibre of his being to his work with cancer patients. Their pain weighs heavily on his shoulders. Between losing clients, the expectations of his fathers, and bigot neighbours, he’s slowly reaching his breaking point.

Taine Afoa retires from a storied career as an international rugby star. He’s moved away from London for a change of pace, never expecting to meet a man who’s far too young for him. No matter how hard he tries, it’s impossible to get Freddie out of his mind.

Will Taine's resistance dissolve in time for him to give love the chance to flourish?

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The Sin Bin, Book 1
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The Wanderer
 books2read.com/wanderer

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon
Dahlia Donovan wrote her first romance series after a crazy dream about shifters and damsels in distress. She prefers irreverent humour and unconventional characters. An autistic and occasional hermit, her life wouldn’t be complete without her husband and her massive collection of books and video games.


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