Friday, July 31, 2015

Cover Reveal: Onslow Boys Boxed Set by C. J. Duggan




Title: Onslow Boys Boxed Set
Series: Summer #1.5, 2.5, 3.5
Author: C.J. Duggan
Genre: Contemporary New Adult
Cover Design: Keary Taylor at Indie Designs
 Release Date: September 1, 2015



Blurb

For the first time in one collection

The ONSLOW BOYS Boxed Set

This SUMMER fall in love with an ONSLOW BOY

INCLUDES EXCLUSIVE FOREVER SUMMER TEASER CHAPTERS

 
STAN

Stan Remington is the go-to man; what he doesn’t know about Onslow means one of two things: it doesn’t exist or it hasn’t happened yet.

The wild and annoying doctor’s daughter spends her summer family holidays at Remington’s Caravan Park, and normally she’s not Stan’s problem. But then she sabotages his planned weekend escape. Now Stan finds himself not only caretaking the caravan park on his own, but also responsible for Bel.

Just the two of them. Under the one roof. For one long, long weekend.
 
MAX

Melanie Sheehan didn’t set out to be a liar, but her last lie landed her in big trouble. Now Mel must suffer a harsh consequence – she’s not allowed out of her father’s sight.

Max, the new head barman at the Onslow Hotel, is the one boy Mel has been crushing on since forever. At a time when Mel plans to go on the straight and narrow, she is about to tell the biggest lie of all. Will Max be able to handle the fiery farm girl or should he be considered the last boy in Onslow to trust?
 
RINGER

Ringo ‘Ringer’ James has a no-strings-attached policy.

Love them, leave them, and remain the eternal bachelor.

After a summer in which every one of his mates has succumbed to settling down, or so it seemed, Ringer is on the lookout for a quick exit. Having had enough of the stomach-turning love fest witnessed over the past three months, Ringer jumps at the opportunity to help out his mate, Max, by heading to Max’s dad’s property for a working holiday.

It’s just what he’s looking for. A remote, dusty homestead in Ballan, with only hard work, a cold beer and a comfy bed to worry about – no women.

Until Miranda Henry.

The privately educated daughter of his boss has returned home from overseas and things are about to get very complicated, very fast.

Warning: sexual references, and occasional coarse language.




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Author Bio


C.J Duggan is a number one internationally bestselling Australian author of seven independent titles of her popular New Adult Summer series. In addition to her chart-topping indie novels, C.J is set to publish two titles with Hachette, Australia with her brand-new Paradise Series in 2015 (Paradise City and Paradise Road).

C.J lives with her husband in a rural border town of New South Wales, Australia. When she isn't writing books about swoony boys and 90s pop culture you will find her renovating her hundred-year-old Victorian homestead or annoying her local travel agent for a quote to escape the chaos.

The 'Summer Series'
The Boys of Summer (December 2012)
Stan (October 2014)
An Endless Summer (July 2013)
Max (February 2015)
That One Summer (December 2013)
Ringer (March 2014)
Forever Summer (December 2015)

The 'Paradise Series'
Paradise City (April 28th, 2015)
Paradise Road (August 28th, 2015)



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Release Blitz: Midnight Moonrising by K. S. Haigwood & Anne Conley




Title: Midnight Moonrising
Series: Moonrising #1
Author: K.S. Haigwood & Anne Conley
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
 Release Date: July 31, 2015



Blurb

Mena wants the Master Vampire of Montgomery, Alabama, but the wolf inside her wants the homicide detective working the case of the man she murdered.





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Excerpt

With everyone thinking I was angry, I was taking a wild guess that it would be at least thirty minutes before anyone realized I was gone. That was a good head start. From the vague vibe I was feeling from Jess and the other traitors, I was looking at covering a distance of about four miles. I ran that nearly every morning, and the time it took to get there would allow my wolf and me time to figure out what we were going to do when we got there.

Cutting the bitch was what my wolf wanted to do, and I couldn't honestly say that I wasn't on board with that plan, but I was smart enough to know that I couldn't take on eight werewolves on my own. I would have to find their hideout and come back with my pack. Bringing Phoenix and his clan to watch my back in case any of my wolves were really on Jessica's side was a smart thing to do, so I would let them come, too, not that I would really get a choice in the matter; I doubted he would stay behind even if I begged him to.

A loud clatter had my head whipping around to look behind me again. An aluminum trash can lay on its side, its contents spilling into the street. A tabby cat peeked around the edge of the torn trash bag and I exhaled in relief. I was a sad case, indeed. I laughed at myself. I was not used to being the monster.

"I aim to change that, Mena."

I rolled my eyes at my wolf. "You just be you and let me be me and we'll get along just fine."

Soft laughter filled my head and I had to smile. I had to admit that I liked her, regardless of how much trouble she was causing me with Phoenix. At least we had come to a compromise. I didn't know how well said compromise was going to work out, or even if it would at all, but I was willing to try. Everyone deserved a shot at happiness, even with as insane as our case may be.

As I turned my head back around to continue on my journey, I ran smack-dab into the hard chest of a man. He was in shadow, so I couldn't see his face. Stumbling back, I attempted to get my balance, but his arms closed tightly around my body, jerking me to him and trapping my arms down at my sides so I couldn't move.

Struggling against his solid hold on me, I opened my mouth to let out a scream, but he twisted me around and clamped a hand over my mouth so fast that I didn't know what was happening until I was being pulled backward, away from the security of the streetlights that lined the suburban road.

I raised my knee up then brought my foot down hard on the toe of his shoe. He let out a muffled grunt, but continued to drag me into the shadows.

This had to be one of the werewolves. The strength alone told me that. They had to have been watching my house, just waiting for me to leave. This bastard was going to kill me if I didn't do something.

My wolf stirred under my skin. She wanted out and it was the first time since I'd been bitten that I agreed with that plan. With only a little more than human strength and quick reflexes, it wasn't possible for me to handle a grown male werewolf on my own.

My final option, before letting my wolf free, was try to at least injure him. I hoped that would be enough to make him loosen his grip on me enough so I could run. If he gave chase, I would have to concede and let my wolf take over.

Gripping the dagger tighter in my palm, I rotated my wrist and drove the blade into his side as hard as I could. An ear-piercing ululation erupted from his throat and he let go of me. I didn't wait or look back. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, adrenaline and my wolf giving me the speed and strength to push my muscles past what a human would be able to endure.

"Mena… Mena!" I heard the cry behind me, but my mind wasn't registering anything except panic and the need to get as far away from my attacker as possible. "Mena—wait! It's me…" A strangled groan had me slowing. "…it's… it's Phoenix. I—I'm so sorry, Mena."

I froze, not wanting to look back at the man, terrified that what he'd spoken was true. If it was—if I turned and saw those ice-blue eyes staring back at me, it would destroy any trust I had ever had in him.

"Please, Mena, I never meant to hurt you. I was only trying to scare you so you would realize what a stupid stunt going off on your own to find the killers was. What were you thinking?"

The blood rushed through my veins at an impossible speed, and fury washed over me in waves as I stood there trying to decide whether to walk away or allow my wolf to rip Phoenix's head off. She was all for the second option.

I heard him cough, and then groan in agony. I imagined he was pulling the dagger out of whatever organ I had been lucky enough to hit. There was a lot of heavy, ragged breathing and two more guttural-sounding coughs. It appeared as though I had hit a lung. Too bad it wasn't his heart! I wasn't sure stabbing him in the heart with a silver blade would kill him, but I would have put money on a bet that it would have been a hell of a lot more painful.

I turned my head to glare at him, but the hatred I had expected to feel wasn't there. He had fallen to his knees, and his head was bent, his eyes focused on the bright red stain spreading across his new shirt.

Shaking my head, I looked up to the sky and asked, "Why me?" After receiving no answer, I sighed and began the one-hundred-meter walk back to Phoenix.







K.S. Haigwood


Kristie Haigwood (a.k.a. K.S. Haigwood) is currently writing her 10th novel. She lives in Arkansas, US. She is the mother of 2 awesome kids and 2 great dogs. She is happily married to her soulmate who thinks reading is a solid waste of time. Opposites attract. Kristie’s works include ‘Save My Soul’, ‘Hell’s Gift’, ‘Good Side of Sin’, ‘Eternal Island’, ‘Eternal Immortality’ 'Eternal Illusion' ‘Accepting the Moon’ and 'Midnight Moonrising'. ‘My Sweet Purgatory’ and 'Andromeda's Reign are releasing soon. 



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Anne Conley


Anne has written her entire life and has the boxes of angst-filled journals and poetry to prove it. She's been writing for public consumption for the last four years. Currently she is writing three romance series. In Stories of Serendipity, she explores real people living real lives in small town Texas in a contemporary romance setting. In The Four Winds, she chronicles God's four closest archangels, Uriel, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael, falling in love and becoming human. In Pierce Securities, she gives us Ryan, Evan, Miriam, Zack, Quinten, and Simon. She lives in rural East Texas with her husband and children in her own private oasis, where she prides herself in her complete lack of social skills, choosing instead to live with the people inside her head.



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Sale Blitz: Gloria's Secret: The Trilogy by Nelle L'Amour




Title: Gloria's Secret: The Trilogy
Series: Gloria's Secret #1-3
Author: Nelle L'Amour
Genre: Erotic Romance
 Release Date: April 19, 2015



Blurb

The New York Times bestselling series from the author of THAT MAN! Over 700 pages of steamy romance!

Gloria Long is the beautiful, self-made CEO of Gloria's Secret, the world's largest retailer of lingerie. While her global emporium is famed for selling erotic fantasies, Gloria's emotional scars inhibit her own sexual desires. Her powerful defenses melt when she meets Jaime Zander, the devastatingly gorgeous advertising guru, who is determined to win not only her account but also her heart by awakening her sexuality—in the boardroom and the bedroom.

A man who has never heard the word "no," Jaime takes his creativity to the limit to make Gloria fall apart and fall for him. But major obstacles stand in the way—Gloria's Secret's ruthless Chairman, who covets Gloria and is out to destroy Jaime, as well as his manipulative sexpot daughter, who wants both Gloria's job and her hot, new love. Complicating matters further, Gloria harbors a dark, horrific secret, that when exposed, will shatter both her empire and her life. Will she be able to have it all or will the walls come tumbling down?






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Excerpt

I jolted. Under the table, I felt something slide under my dress and snake up my thigh-high silk stocking past my garters to my middle. Holy fuck! It was his bare foot, and it was running circles over my mound.

“Ah, Gloria, your pussy feels so hot and wet beneath those lace panties of yours.” He paused. “They are powder blue, right?” he asked with a roguish grin.

“Yes,” I gasped. His foot was now rubbing hard against my clit. I was getting more feverish by the second as he pushed me toward the edge. My fingers clutched the corners of the white-linen covered table.

“I think you should stop,” I said between clenched teeth.

“There’s a difference between I think and I want. Do you want me to stop?”

“Yes,” I said breathily.

“Your mouth says ‘yes,’ but your pussy screams ‘no.’”

Oh, God! This man got me. He continued massaging, adding vertical strokes up and down my soaking wet cleft. The pleasure and pressure were so intense I thought I would yelp. I dug my fingernails into the table and chewed my lip, trying hard not to scream. Jesus, how would I look if I broke loose?

Jaime shot me a cocky, confident smile. I wanted to rip it off his face with my teeth.

“Gloria, you want to lose control. Do it!” he commanded as he jabbed his big toe into my pussy.

I exploded. Ripples of ecstasy swept through me. It took all my willpower not to scream out. “Oh, God!” I moaned under my breath.

His satisfied eyes bore into me. “Now, it’s time to move onto the steamy artichoke, another natural aphrodisiac.”

Barely recovered from my mind-blowing orgasm, I eyed the thistle-leafed delicacy sitting in the middle of the table and jolted again. Beneath the table, a hand clutched my calf. Fuck! My turn to play footsy? My already rapid heartbeat accelerated as he maneuvered off my silver sandal and placed my foot on the mound between his legs. His steamy delicacy. The warmth of his swell beneath my sole intensified the throbbing between my inner thighs.

He began rubbing my foot up and down his arousal. I could feel it harden and swell beneath my arch. He hissed. There was nothing I could do with him holding my foot prisoner but wait anxiously for him to come.

And then the movements below ceased. My foot rested on his erection. The sole of my foot was burning.

His glimmering eyes burned a hole in mine. “I’m not going to force you make me come. That would be too much for me here. Too embarrassing. I just want to remind you what you do to me, my beautiful angel.”

Oh my God. He called me “angel.” His beautiful angel. My heart was melting like the candle on the table. How could one man, one word, do this to me?

Still holding my foot on his length, he peeled off an outer leaf of the large artichoke with his spare hand and dipped the tender edge into the side of melted butter. He raised the leaf, dripping with butter, to my lips. My breath hitched.

“Suck!” he ordered.

I clenched my teeth around the soft buttery artichoke meat and sucked it off the leaf. He discarded the remains onto his plate. With his index finger, he gently wiped off the little bit of butter that had fallen onto my lower lip. He inserted his butter-coated finger into his mouth and moaned.

“Now, you feed me a buttery leaf.”

I peeled off a large outer leaf and repeated his action.

“Mmmm. Perfection,” purred Jaime, rolling his tongue over his lush upper lip.

We continued this back and forth consumption of the artichoke until we were down to the heart.

“The heart is the very best part,” he proclaimed, his eyes now hooded.

I simply nodded, my foot still resting upon his hard, hot cock. I was in a trance. My head was spinning, and my blood was looping through my body like a rollercoaster. Hold on, Gloria

“Did you know that a woman’s heart is her real G-spot? You hit that and everything comes apart.”

Trembling, I watched as he stabbed his fork into the fuzzy artichoke center.

“Gloria, I want to win your account. Your cunt. And your heart.”

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t say a word even if I knew what to say.

“And I’m going to win each. One by one, starting with your account.”

I impulsively withdrew my foot from his erection. Business. It was time to talk business. That’s what this dinner was all about. I reinforced myself with a deep breath.

“Mr. Zander, if you are planning on doing business with me—that is, if you indeed have the good fortune of winning the Gloria’s Secret account—then I suggest we keep our relationship purely professional.”

He burst into laughter, totally unnerving me once again.

“Come on, Gloria. Can you can seriously sit here and say you don’t want me?”

I was speechless. Flushed and speechless.

“Doesn’t the thought of your pussy submitting to me anywhere make you wet with want?”

Steeling myself, I said, “Go to hell, you arrogant egotistical asshole.”

He laughed even harder and then looked straight into my eyes.

“Gloria, I’ve wanted you from the moment I set on eyes on you.”

“I’m not your type.”
He snorted. “You’re right. I usually prefer brunettes and like my women to be petite and totally submissive. But that’s why you intrigue me, Ms. Long. I never have to pursue woman; they pursue me. You’re a challenge. On the outside, you wear armor; underneath you wear lace. Your outerwear says don’t touch; your underwear says touch me everywhere. You may be a powerful woman, but the challenge is to unleash the power inside you.








Author Bio


Nelle L'Amour is a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling Author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment and toy industries with a prestigious Humanitus Award to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago but still enjoys playing with toys with her husband. While she writes in her PJs, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she's Hollywood royalty. She writes juicy stories with characters that will make you both laugh and cry and stay in your heart forever.

In addition to the Gloria’s Secret Trilogy, she is the author of the bestselling THAT MAN series, the Seduced by the Park Avenue Billionaire boxed set, and the highly rated Amazon bestseller, Undying Love. Unforgettable, her latest series, will be published in Fall 2015.

Nelle loves to hear from her readers. Connect to her at:


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release Boost: The Truth of Tristan Lyons by L. B. Dunbar




Title: The Truth of Tristan Lyons
Series: Legendary Rock Stars #4
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Rock Star Romance
 Release Date: July 27, 2015



Blurb

Heartbreaker.

I understand why I have the nickname. Hey, what can I say? I like women. All women. It doesn’t matter what shape, size, or color. I’m even into sharing. I’ve done it all, seen it all, but I’m at an all-time low. Who wouldn’t be? My best friend is missing. My uncle’s an asshole. I don’t know who I am without The Nights. We are a band of brothers, soldiering through the world with our music. Only, our faithful leader is gone, and everyone else in the band is falling for the oldest trap: love. Love is a lie. It is painful. It is hurtful.

I need a break. I want to be alone. I'm not prepared to share the exclusive home on the Island. I'm not prepared for her. I don’t know who she is or why she's here. She tells me to call her Ireland. I tell her my first name only. Originally, I don’t want to believe she doesn’t recognize me. Bass guitarist for The Nights, come on? After a while we both play the game. Secrets are another form of lies, aren't they?

Our fantasy will crash to reality too soon. Secrets catch up to you. The truth has to be told. It confirms what I already know: love is a lie.

Until her.







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Excerpt

The Truth of Tristan Lyons excerpt © L.B. Dunbar

I wanted to know who she was. Scratch that, I didn’t care who she was. I wanted to know how she got in the house. Damn these fangirls, sometimes.  They knew no shame. 
“Hey,” I said grabbing her upper arm. “How did you get in here?”
She seemed caught unaware of my approach and screamed loudly, pushing at my chest hard enough, the sheer surprise forced me to let go of her.
With her hand on her chest and her breasts rising and falling in great agitation, I was able to see her big blue eyes and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose. Her chin length blonde hair fell forward as she bent to clasp her knees and catch her breath.
Standing up almost as quickly as she bent over, she spoke to me through delicious looking pink lips.
“Who the fuck are you?” she growled.
“Who the fuck, are you?” I returned.
“I’m…”
“You know what, never mind. You need to go,” I said, cutting her off and reaching for her upper arm again. “I don’t know how you got in here, where you came from, or how you found me, but you need to go.”
I began to tug her toward the front entry, her feet sliding in her flip-flops across the tile flooring. She pulled back, and the force made her skid on an angle across the slippery surface as I dragged her. She continued to glare at me quizzically, leaning away from me.
“I don’t know what you are talking about?”
“Did you follow me, is that it? See me in the airport?”
“What?”
“Okay, I love you too, now you need to go. Okay?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am?”
“I don’t.”
I stopped, still holding firmly to her arm. Something in her voice sounded like she was being serious.
“I’m Tristan.”
She blinked, confusion clearly on her face. I was thoughtful for a moment. It was the innocence in her blue eyes, and the fact she looked like she might cry. Something wasn’t right with this scenario.
“Trist – an,” I said slowly, as if she had some type of hearing impairment.
“Who?”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“What kind of music do you listen to?”
“Country,” she answered so quickly, she didn’t even blink an eye or stop for thought. On top of that, she said it in such a way that showed she was thoroughly confused, and almost disgusted with me, for even asking such a ridiculous question. She wrinkled her nose.
“Look, I know the owner, and you shouldn’t be here.”
“I know the owner,” I repeated, “and you shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said, pulling at her own arm again and sticking out a hand to press against my chest as leverage. I had tugged my shirt off at some point while I was passed out, and her warm hand felt good on my air-conditioned cool skin. Her hand was tiny, I noticed. All of her was thin.
“I’m supposed to be here. Alone,” I emphasized again.
She didn’t respond, so I added, “I think I’ll just call the owner myself, to see where the mix up is.”
“No,” she blurted, stopping in her physical struggle against me. Her eyes opened even wider, if that was possible, and her face was suddenly full of something I couldn’t read. Her blue eyes brightened in a frightening sort of way. Was that fear? Good, she should be afraid.
“Please. I swear. I’m allowed to be here. You don’t need to call Isa.” 
She had me. I didn’t really know who Isa was, and the girl sounded confident enough that I let her call my bluff.
“If there is a mistake, and you were scheduled to stay as well, I won’t complain. As a matter of fact, I won’t even be in your way. You won’t even know I’m here. I plan to keep to myself.”  Her eyes were glassy, and again I worried she was about to cry.
I released her arm and she pulled it back quickly. She fisted the hand of that arm, holding it against her chest. She began rubbing her upper arm with the opposite hand. I noticed again that she was thin, as were her breasts. I didn’t care for small chested girls. I didn’t care for her.
“Well, I’m Tristan, whom you claim to not know, and you are?”
“I’m…Ireland.”
“Ireland what?”
“Just…Ireland.”
I shook my head.
“So this is how we’re going to play it? Fine, my Irish Isle. What are you doing in the Caymans?”
She looked at me for a moment, then leaned toward me and sniffed. She held the disgusted expression on her face and wrinkled her nose as she pulled back.
“Probably the same thing as you.”
“Drinking myself into oblivion?” I laughed, crossing my arms over my bare chest defensively.
“Hiding,” she replied.







Author Bio


L.B. Dunbar loves to read to the point it might be classified as an addiction. The past few years especially she has relished the many fabulous YA authors, the new genre of New Adult, traditional romances, and historical romances. A romantic at heart, she’s been accused of having an overactive imagination, as if that was a bad thing. Author of the Sensations Collection, Sound Advice, Taste Test, Fragrance Free, Touch Screen, and Sight Words, she is also author of the Legendary Rock Star series, beginning with The Legend of Arturo King. She grew up in Michigan, but has lived in Chicago for longer, calling it home with her husband and four children.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I’d like to say I was always a writer. I’d also like to say that I wrote every day of my life since a child. That I took the teaching advice I give my former students because writing every day improves your writing. I’d like to say I have my ten-thousand hours that makes me a proficient writer. But I can’t say any of those things. I did dream of writing the “Great American Novel” until one day a friend said: Why does it have to be great? Why can’t it just be good and tell a story?

As a teenager, I wrote your typical love-angst poetry that did occasionally win me an award and honor me with addressing my senior high school class at our Baccalaureate Mass. I didn’t keep a journal because I was too afraid my mom would find it in the mattress where I kept my copy of Judy Blume’s Forever that I wasn’t allowed to read as a twelve year old.

I can say that books have been my life. I’m a reader. I loved to read the day I discovered “The Three Bears” as a first grader, and ever since then, the written word has been my friend. Books were an escape for me. An adventure to the unknown. A love affair I’d never know. I could be lost for hours in a book.

So why writing now? I had a story to tell. It haunted me from the moment I decided if I just wrote it down it would go away. But it didn’t. Three years after writing the first draft, a sign (yes, I believe in them) told me to fix up that draft and work the process to have it published. That’s what I did. But one story let to another, and another, and another. Then a new idea came into my head and a new storyline was created.

I was accused (that’s the correct word) of having an overactive imagination as a child, as if that was a bad thing. I’ve also been accused of having the personality of a Jack Russell terrier, full of energy, unable to relax, and always one step ahead. What can I say other than I have stories to tell and I think you’ll like them. If you don’t, that’s okay. We all have our book boyfriends. We all have our favorites. Whatever you do, though, take time for yourself and read a book. 

L.B. Dunbar






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