It’s official… The Girl in 6E, the award-winning erotic suspense by New York Times Bestseller Alessandra Torre, will be made into a movie! Torre has signed a deal with EuropaCorp Inc. to shoot a full-length feature film of The Girl in 6E! EuropaCorp is the studio behind the Taken trilogy as well as Lucy and the Transporter movies. In addition to having a studio, contracts are already executed for Vertigo Entertainment (The Grudge, Poltergeist) to produce the movie, and a female writer has already begun writing the script.

There will also be a Movie Night Party on Torre’s Facebook Fan Page on Thursday July 30th, from 9pm – 11pm EST!

Join Torre for two hours of trivia, contests, and giveaways! Be sure to Like her page for access: http://goo.gl/Uo4QfF

If you haven’t read the Girl in 6E, here is a list of links for easy access:

Amazon | AmazonUK | AmazonCA | AmazonAU | Nook | Kobo | iBooks

* * *

Alessandra Torre is an award-winning New York Times bestselling author of ten novels. Her books focus on romance and suspense, all with a strong undercurrent of sexuality. Torre has been featured in such publications as Elle and Elle UK, co-hosted Dirty Sexy Funny with Jenny McCarthy, as well as guest blogged for the Huffington Post and RT Book Reviews. She is also the Bedroom Blogger for Cosmopolitan.com.

You can learn more about Alessandra on her website at www.alessandratorre.com, or you can find her on Twitter (@ReadAlessandra) or Facebook.

Website | Facebook |Twitter |Goodreads | Amazon | TSU | You Tube | Newsletter

* * *

Alessandra Torre News Brought to you by her PR Team at The Next Step PR

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Image by Cool Text: Logo and Button Generator – Create Your Own Logo

A Heart’s Forgiveness by Joanne Schwehm

Release Date – July 27, 2015

Synopsis

A heart is made to love, but can it truly forgive?

Filled with confidence, intellect, and beauty, Julie Michaels was comfortable navigating life on her own. But everything changed when she met Brett Chambers and he found a way into her heart.

He consumed it.
He owned it.
He broke it.

Brett knew Julie was his soul mate. She mirrored everything he desired until she wanted forever. Having been burned before, he had no intention of repeating those vows. His refusal cost him what he treasured most – Julie.

Letting go of Brett was the hardest thing Julie had ever done. It tore apart her soul and every fiber of her being. Shattered, she tried to move on, but life had a different plan.

Would Brett’s mistake mean losing her forever, or could Julie find it in her heart to forgive him?

***STAND ALONE NOVEL INTENDED FOR MATURE READERS***

Purchase Link:

Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US —> http://amzn.to/1D0fZ8b

Amazon UK —> http://amzn.to/1fxVy7o

Amazon CA —> http://amzn.to/1fxVBA7

Amazon AU —> http://bit.ly/1KsPvi6

About the Author

Joanne Schwehm is a romance author who was born and raised in Western, NY. She despises being cold, but she warms up either writing or reading sexy romantic books.

She loves the NY Yankees and the Dallas Cowboys and also enjoys playing golf (and the cute outfits that she gets to buy to wear on the course). Her motto is, “If you can’t play well, then look good trying.”

Her passions outside of the sporting world are; spending time with her family, having fun with her friends, reading, drinking coffee or diet coke and of course writing.

She studied Theater Arts in college and always wanted to be an actress, but that obviously didn’t pan out, so instead of staring in a drama, she writes them and hopes you enjoy modern day fairy tales and breathless moments.

Social Media Links:

Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Joanne-Schwehm/e/B00GBC1X2K/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_7

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JSchwehmBooks

Google +: www.plus.google.com/jschwehm

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/nyy2fan/

FB: www.facebook.com/joanneschwehm

GR Group: https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/156533-joanne-schwehm-s-romantic-reading-friends

Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/jschwehmbooks

Facebook Group link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/joanneschwehmsreaders/

Giveaway – $25 Amazon Gift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

What Emma Craves

by Amanda Abbott

Releases July 27

It took a lot for Pete Slater to convince his wife, Emma, to move to the suburbs. But once she arrived, she found it had a deliciously steamy underbelly. Her neighborhood is filled with hook-ups, affairs, and scandal. It’s better than any reality TV show.

But Emma finds she isn’t satisfied any more. After seeing Piper and Michael become adventurous again as a couple, it’s made Emma realize that’s what she wants in her own life. She craves to be noticed again. She decides what the two of them really need is a vacation. The STD girls throw her a travel shower, gifting her some sexy starters, and she and Pete are off to the Bahamas.

Their destination is a super exclusive resort situated on a tiny island where anything and everything can happen. When they meet a young couple at the airport, who end up in the suite next to theirs, things go from fun to incredibly steamy fast. Emma drives Pete crazy flirting, and it pays off. For the first time in their marriage her husband is jealous of another man. What Pete does to win her back turns out to be exactly what Emma craves.

*This book is off the charts hot. It contains: explicit sex, group sex, and voyeurism.

 Check out our 4 smooches review

Website: http://www.authoramandaabbott.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorAAbbott

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAmandaAbbott

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13778727.Amanda_Abbott?from_search=true

Newsletter: http://bit.ly/1GzfRb1

Bio:

Amanda Abbott lives in the Midwest. She’s the author of many books, both on her own and some published in New York. She loves traveling, seeing the world, and above all she loves to write. These stories have blossomed out of her pure love of all kinds of romance, but especially humor + sexy combined. Taking the question of “what if” and making it real was an absolute thrill to write. And there’s more in the hopper! To keep up with new series and new releases, head to her website www(dot)authoramandaabbott(dot)com and be sure to sign-up for her newsletter!

____________

Excerpt

Emma ducked down into the bushes as the car drove down the street. She peeked out of her hiding spot and saw it was the Dwyers, an elderly couple who lived three doors down from her and Pete, driving their dated black Cadillac. They were coming home from church, as usual. Emma was crouched in a very unladylike position, but the wait would be well worth it. She was situated directly under the McCrays’ garage window, waiting for the show to begin.

It happened without fail every Wednesday night at ten thirty-seven, when Candace arrived home after her weekly hot yoga class.

When she could, Emma always snagged a front-row seat.

Another car came down the street, like clockwork. A second later the McCray garage door engaged, rolling up smoothly, the vibrations shaking Emma’s shoulder where she leaned against the siding. Emma stood and watched as Candace pulled her leased Audi RS 5 into the spot right next to the window.

Emma knew it was leased, because Candace was an avid talker. Candace was a forty-one-year-old unhappily married stepmother to three older children. She enjoyed her boxed Chardonnay, and over the years she’d filled Emma’s ears with more than Emma had ever needed to know about her, including how stretched she and her husband were financially to maintain the lifestyle they felt they deserved.

The “lifestyle,” according to Candace, was expensive cars, lavish vacations, and diamond jewelry glittering around her neck. The unhappiness that accompanied it was considered a typical side effect and had become an accepted sacrifice.

To Emma, however, living the lifestyle were nights like this, when Candace stole a moment of pleasure all to herself. Candace just didn’t realize that she was actually involved in a different kind of “lifestyle” altogether—the sexual kind.

Most people didn’t.

Instead, they refused to name it, because that would make it real. So they engaged in affairs and sneaked around instead of choosing to be open with their sexual desires.

Emma never begrudged Candace for stealing a tiny slice of happiness where she could. If this was the only place she could get it, so be it. Plus, it was entertaining as hell to watch. Candace was a beautiful woman, tall, curvy, with long blonde hair. She had to be gorgeous, since she was Kyle McCray’s trophy wife. Kyle was a fifty-five-year-old misogynistic asshole who traveled more than he was ever at home.

And when he was around, he was trying to screw everything he could get his meaty hands on. He’d come on to Emma several times over the years, but she’d always fobbed him off like a pro, insulting him so intelligently he never quite knew how brutally he was getting the brush-off.

Emma watched as Candace emerged from her car. The woman carefully set her purse and keys on a small shelf by the door and went to stand in front of the fender of her car. A moment later, there was a small noise as the side door opened and closed.

Justin walked toward Candace like he was in need of a meal and hadn’t eaten for weeks.

It was the same every single Wednesday.

They didn’t embrace or touch each other affectionately.

They never did. Justin had his dick out before he reached Candace, who had leaned over the hood of the Audi, bracing her palms on the hood. Emma always pondered whether the car hood was hot or not, but it didn’t bother Candace in the least.

Justin came up behind her and peeled her yoga pants down with one hand.

Emma could see that Candace was still sweaty. Most of the time she was—she must prefer it that way. Justin pushed his cock into her with little preamble and began a pounding rhythm that sent the Audi rocking in tandem to his thrusts.

Candace tried to keep her moans quiet, but Emma could hear them through the glass. Emma knew Candace loved every minute of this and craved it like nothing else in her life.

Emma knew the feeling.

Every time Emma’s husband, Pete, touched her, she felt a rush like that. She couldn’t get enough.

Justin was a twentysomething friend of Candace’s oldest stepson. He worked as a waiter at a restaurant nearby. Although he was on the skinny side, he was tall and knew how to use his cock. Emma knew where he worked only because she’d spotted him at the restaurant on a few occasions. Candace had mentioned Justin once in passing about a year ago, and Emma had gotten the drift that Candace knew Justin’s mother—and that they might even be bridge partners.

Oh, the scandal of it all!

That’s what Emma adored the most.

There was titillation in watching these acts, no doubt about it, but it was the naughtiness and the secrets that gave her the ultimate enjoyment. The suburbs—a place she’d never, ever thought she’d live—were absolutely teeming with adultery, scandal, and sexual mayhem! It was better than any reality TV she’d ever watched. Probably because it was all live.

But still.

It’d become a weekly ritual to find out what naughty activities were going on in the neighborhood and seek them out. She’d watched as married wives sought each other out, as well as coeds bored on summer break with nothing better to do than to try to seduce wayward husbands.

Emma watched as Justin continued his relentless pounding until Candace’s voice broke on a stifled cry. As she came, her fingers curled into the car hood, her ass bobbing back to press onto Justin’s cock to hold him steady for a few precious moments.

That was the only touching she allowed.

A few seconds later, Justin pulled out and jutted his come all over Candace’s bare ass.

That must be their agreement.

It always played out the same way.

Emma had been watching for a few months now, and Candace would switch it up on occasion—but only as far as bending over something else in the garage, like the worktable.

Once he was done, Justin tucked himself back in his pants and walked over to a shelf that held a stack of towels. He brought one back for Candace, which she took readily, and he immediately headed toward the door. Once there, he glanced over his shoulder and winked at Emma.

Justin knew she watched. Candace she wasn’t sure about.

That was Emma’s cue to skedaddle.

Justin often tried to catch Emma to talk—he’d even tried to convince her to join them in a threesome. She dodged him as quickly as she could. She found it was easier to disappear before he could make his way around the garage, and since she lived next door, that was an easy thing to do.

Emma sprinted back into her yard, heading around the back of her house.

None of her neighbors knew she and Pete were in the lifestyle. And that’s how she wanted to keep it. She’d hung around with Candace enough to know that if Candace knew Emma was watching her and Justin, she wouldn’t care. She would only want Emma to assure her she looked awesome as the twentysomething fucked her from behind.

* * *

Pete glanced up as his wife entered the kitchen from the sliding glass doors off the deck. He was stretched out on the sofa. “Did Candace come big tonight?” he joked.

“Yep,” Emma answered as she slid the doors closed and walked over to the cupboard. She took out a bag of potato chips and a glass, then hit the fridge for water.

Pete smiled. His wife had a penchant for junk food. “Come sit by me.” He patted the couch next to him. “I was just about to go to bed, but I haven’t seen you much today.”

Emma kicked off her shoes and padded over, settling in next to him.

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. He thought it was cute that she snooped on their crazy neighbors once in a while. He’d gone with her a few times, but it wasn’t his thing. He liked to participate when he watched sex. To him, watching wasn’t exciting if there was no return.

“Don’t forget,” she reminded him, “the girls are coming over here next Thursday for the block party. After, we’re hanging out here. They’re throwing me a ‘travel shower’ to celebrate our trip to the Bahamas. It’s so sweet of them.”

He and Emma were leaving on a much-needed vacation in less than two weeks. Pete was pumped. They hadn’t been on a trip in a long time. They’d booked a villa on a super-exclusive island where open sex was encouraged. He’d heard stories about these kinds of sexy resorts and had always wanted to try one, but they’d never had a chance—or enough money—before now. He was hoping it was going to be a wild ride. “Do you want me to find something else to do while they’re here? Or can I stay upstairs? I have no desire to attend the block party.”

“You never want to go.” She elbowed him, smiling. “I adore seeing everyone out of their fishbowls and love trying to figure out what’s going on behind closed doors. But it doesn’t matter.” She uncurled the bag of chips. “Whatever you want to do is fine.”

He draped his arm around the back of the couch. “How was work today? Have fun teaching little girls how to dance?”

“Little girls and boys. I’m so happy to see more boys enrolled. And it was good,” she said, popping a chip into her mouth. “Same as usual.”

“Are you looking forward to our vacation?”

“I am,” she replied.

Pete sighed. These short, clipped answers were what he’d been dealing with for the past few weeks. They were unlike his wife—who was normally sweet and bubbly, always ready to talk. He couldn’t figure out what was bothering her. He thought maybe it was because he’d pressed the idea of going to a sexy resort when she’d originally wanted to go to a nice, upscale resort where the two of them could “re-couple,” as she’d put it. He had no idea what “re-coupling” meant and had argued for the exclusive resort instead.

If they were going to go on a spendy trip, he wanted to go all-out. Why not? They’d ended up debating it for a few days, but eventually she’d given in.

Just like that. Like a switch had been flipped.

Pete had been puzzled, but satisfied. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He tried again. “We haven’t chatted much this week. What’s going on with you?”

She angled her head up. “Nothing much. Same old stuff. But don’t worry, the vacation is going to be great. I’m really excited. The Bahamas look wonderful.”

“I’ve tried to do a little research on the resort, but it’s really secretive. I can’t find much.” He wrapped an arm around Emma’s shoulder and nuzzled the top of her head. “But from what Jim said, it should be right up our alley. I trust him.”

“Yep, I saw the e-mail he sent, and the pictures. Like I said, it all looks amazing. I’m sold. I’m sure we’ll find lots to do. And people to do it with.”

Pete detected a hint of something in her voice he couldn’t identify. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He frowned. “I don’t want to go if you’re upset. We can book something else. We can probably get our deposit back, or at least some of it, if we back out now.”

She sighed. Pete heard it clearly. “No, I told you. I want to go. I’m excited to visit the Bahamas. It wasn’t my first choice, but I’m fine with it now. We’re paying so much for it, I can’t imagine it will be anything less than amazing.” She patted his leg and popped another chip into her mouth. “You need to relax. I’m fine.”

Pete hated that Emma was obviously bothered about something, but he decided to let it go. She would talk to him when she was ready.

Emma rolled up the top of the chip bag and stood. “I’m going to head up to bed. I’ll see you when you get up there…”

New Series Alert!

COMING FALL 2015

        Pushing the Boundaries, Sexy Singles, Book One

SUNKISSED

Mallory Baldwin is a model on the cusp of superstardom.

Patrick Conrad is an NFL player who’s been sidelined.

They meet on an exclusive dating island.

The beach never looked so good.

AND…

COMING WINTER 2015!

Pushing the Boundaries, Book Four

WHAT GILLIAN DESIRES

Gillian must choose between pleasure and love.

And only one will win.

Just One Lie

by Kyra Davis

Blurb

The long-awaited follow-up novel to the runaway New York Times bestseller Just One Night—which Publishers Weekly gave a starred review and proclaimed, “Davis skillfully creates an uplifting story in which sex is presented both as freedom and as a metaphor for power, and where raw chemistry is the clear winner over bland complacency.”

In the instant international sensation Just One Night, sensible Kasie Fitzgerald unleashed her passions—and found herself—through an explosive affair. In Just One Lie, we meet Kasie’s wild and tortured sister, whose impulsivity and lack of self-control has set off a chain of events that changes her family forever.

Melody Fitzgerald is the opposite of the “perfect” daughter. The lead singer of an indie rock band, she is impulsive and creative, with a rebellious streak that both defines her and becomes her greatest enemy. Her lover, the enticing and unpredictable Ash, shares her free spirit and penchant for trouble. On the face of it, he seems to be her perfect match.

So why is she so drawn to her soft spoken, reliable drummer, Brad Witmer? How can a man who wears polo shirts and reads the financial section of the paper be of any interest to her at all? And why on earth does someone like that appear to be so captivated by her?

Before she knows it, Melody finds herself on a path of self-discovery, passion, and affairs of the heart. But will a dark secret from her past derail it all? Or will its exposure be the very thing that unburdens her heart and allows her to seek a future with the one man who loves her completely?

Excerpt

It is the perfect moment…until I spot him standing near the corner of the room. He’s almost entirely in the shadows, his features barely visible, but still, I recognize him. There’s something about the way that man holds himself. Right now he’s leaning against a beam, his arms crossed over his chest, chin up. Like with a lion, it’s difficult to tell if he’s on the verge of sleeping or attacking. The first time I saw him-when was that, a year ago? No, over thirteen months since we met-I couldn’t stop staring. I loved his high, chiseled cheekbones and his lightly tanned skin that hinted at a possible Native American heritage, or maybe Latino. But then his bright green eyes insisted that the story wasn’t so straightforward. Oh, and I loved his tribal tattoos and the way his full lips curved into a slow, sensual smile when he saw me for the first time at that club in Seattle. An aspiring musician is how he described himself, but that night, when he sang to me, I could see that his talent was a lot more than aspirational.

            His first name is Ash-maybe it’s short for Asher or Ashley, I don’t know, and at the time I didn’t care. I just recall thinking that a man with a name like that had to have a story to tell, one that involved passion and adventure and yeah, okay, maybe a little destruction. We talked for hours and I had felt like I understood him in a way that I had never understood anyone else. And then, later, I realized I didn’t know a thing about him. All our words and intimacies had left us strangers.

            Ash is the stranger who took my life.

            One night with him, one night of rapture. That’s all it took to put an end to Melody Fitzgerald.

            And as if killing me wasn’t enough, this son of a bitch has reappeared and he’s fucking with my moment!

            I pull my eyes away and find Rick, the owner of the club, standing at the edge of the bar. Next to him is a couple. A man with light brown hair and chiseled chin with his arm wrapped around an ironed-straight blonde with the sinuous figure of a runway model. All these beautiful people are here to see me! That’s what I have to focus on. Not him. Never, ever him.

            And yet, even as I refuse to bring my eyes back to Ash, my mind can’t seem to leave him.

            The music pushes me forward, forcing me to continue even as I feel my chest tighten. There’s not enough air in here for this. How could I have not noticed that before? Tonio jumps into his guitar solo and I use the opportunity to take a deep breath, inadvertently inhaling the unmistakable scent of marijuana floating up from somewhere on the dance floor. Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter. None of this can matter, nothing but the music and what it can do. With new resolve I fall back into the song, attacking it with even more ferocity than before. The crowd hears it and loves it.

            And now it’s me that’s moving, across the stage and back again, running, screaming, and the crowd screams right back. This is everything. But then there he is, leaning against that beamn, just…watching me. Has he followed me? Isn’t one death enough for him? The question stirs up some rage I’ve been trying to set aside since our last meeting. Impulsively I knock the microphone stand to the ground with the smack of my open palm. The crowd thinks it’s part of the act and so I go on, finding that I can rejoice in anger as much as any other emotion. As we reach the last stanza, Traci’s and Tonio’s voices join mine, and the sound is an assult on anyone who would ever dream of challenging us. Maybe tomorrow they’ll say I’m a cross between Courtney Love and Fiona Apple. Maybe they’ll say the whole band is destined for fame and greatness. Yeah, that’s what they’ll say, those who are sober enough to remember. But right now they just cheer as our song comes to an end.

            “Thank you,” I whisper into the mic. I look back at Ash. Even from here I cans see that he’s clapping, but it’s a slow, purposeful movement. He puts his hand to his mouth, kisses his palm, and then extends his arm leisurely toward me. It’s not so much that he’s blowing me a kiss as he is offering it to me. Inviting me to climb down from my pedestal and take it from him. Again I inhale deeply. “So, I gotta ask you guys something,” I continue. “It’s the end of an era and you’re bringing in the new millennium at Apocalypse listening to a band called fucking Resurrection. Is that tripping anyone else out?” There were yells of approval and at least one person cries hell yes! “By the way,” I add, “it’s really just Resurrection, only our parents call us fucking Resurrection.” General laughter and one woman screams out, “Parents suck!”

            Ooh, if these guys only knew how much I agree with that one. “Incase you missed it, this stud on the guitar is Tonio.” Tonio strums out a few wrenching chords as the crowd cheers. “The hot chick in the leather mini is Traci.” Traci plays the opening piano notes of “Sympathy for the Devil.” It’s doubtful that this crowd recognizes it even as they whistle and scream for her, but I do, and the reference makes me laugh. “And allow me to introduce our new drummer! Brad’s only been with us for a week and he’s killing it, am I right?” The crowd roars as Brad launches into a drum solo that is so intense, so aggressive, and so beautiful I turn my back on the audience, momentarily forgetting all of them, even my killer, as I lock eyes with this man who must have sold his soul for this kind of talent. His lips curve into a little half smile as his sticks fly across the stretched membrane surfaces. Physically he doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the group-too athletic, too clean cut, too aristocratic-but the rest of his viciously beautiful rhythm is downright sinful.

            When he ends with a perfectly executed clash, I realize for the first time that I’ve been holding my breath. The crowd cries out, solidifying the triumph as I match his smile with my own and slowly pivot back to the room. “And of course, I’m Mercy. I…” but I give up on continuing as the crowd erupts again, drowning me out with their cheers, chanting my name.

            My new name, a choice I made for myself only months ago, now reverberating through the room: Mercy, Mercy, Mercy. It’s on the lips and tongues of everyone in this room…except for his. Beneath the harmonious hum of voices, like an insidious undercurrent, I can hear his silent accusations: That is not who you are. You are not Mercy.

            I swallow and look into the spotlight, letting the light assault my vision, temporarily turning the entire club into a murky blur as the crowd quiets enough for me to speak again. “So we got”-I turn and point to the large red numbers projected by a laser clock onto the wall behind my head-“fifteen minutes until the four horsemen arrive. I’m thinking we better stop wasting time and get back into this!”

            The crowd cheers again. I spot Rick giving me a thumbs-up as the rugby guy next to him pumps his fist in the air. And again Tonio strums the strings of his guitar. And again my voice rises high then low, elating the crowd and giving me the fortitude to turn my thoughts away from the beast who watches me from the shadows.

            And when it’s 11:59 we stop midsong. I hold my hands up in the air and point to the numbers. “It’s almost Y2K time, people!” I cry and glance back at Rick, who is staring intently at his watch. And then he lifts his hand and begins to tick off the seconds with his fingers as I count them down into the mic, “Ten, nine, eight…”

            The crowd’s counting with me. “…seven, six…” The beautiful black man has raised his glass in the air; a young woman behind him scrambles on top of the bar with a small video camera in her hand. “…three…” The muscle boy is bounding his fist against the stage. “…two, one!”

            And the room erupts. Confetti flies everywhere and the kind of fragmented light that comes from a disco ball splashes across the celebrants. Tonio pops a bottle of cheap champagne he’d been hiding in the wings and douses everyone in the band with it before passing it around. I let the bubbles tickle my tongue, then turn back to the microphone and launch into a happier, more celebratory tune. The people standing beneath us have woven together like vines against the wall, limbs tangled with limbs, lips against lips. There is no separation, no individual distinctions. They all have become a snarled mass of exhilaration and lust.

            Except for Ash. He continues to just stand there, apart from all of it. He’s simply watching me. Waiting for me to come to him and claim my kiss.

Pre-Order The Book

Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/pv9sut6
Amazon Paperback: http://tinyurl.com/oogdp2m
Nook: http://tinyurl.com/pyscdql
B&N Paperback: http://tinyurl.com/o6mlzq9
iBooks: http://tinyurl.com/oku7x3a
BAM: http://tinyurl.com/oa3ycrh
IndieBound: http://tinyurl.com/ounsj6s
Google: http://tinyurl.com/q8hgthd

About The Author

New York Times bestselling author of JUST ONE NIGHT, DECEPTIVE INNOCENCE, the Sophie Katz mysteries, SO MUCH FOR MY HAPPY ENDING and the upcoming DANGEROUS ALLIANCE, JUST ONCE MORE and JUST ONE LIE.

http://www.kyradavis.com

ABOUT BLACK DAWN

What happens when nothing is as it seems?

Lexi Dare is on a one-woman mission to stay alive. Both at home and at work. Because how did she end up with a ring on her finger and an abuser in bed as she readies to hit the high point in her career? Everything should be perfect. Amazing job. Handsome fiancé. It’s all a disaster.

Parker Black is the brains behind Titan Group, an elite security firm. In his world, everything is ordered and controlled, except what he feels for his buddy’s girl. Something in her eye screams for help, but he has no idea what.

When Lexi disappears, Parker realizes what he should have known. The lines blur between friendships and work, and they must find each other to survive a terror attack that only Lexi can stop.

Black Dawn can be read as a standalone and does not have a cliffhanger.

Check out our 5 smooches review HERE.

Add BLACK DAWN to your Goodreads list here!

Buy BLACK DAWN now: Amazon | Barnes and Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

ABOUT CRISTIN HARBER

Cristin Harber is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling romance author. She writes sexy, steamy romantic suspense and military romance. Readers voted her onto Amazon’s Top Picks for Debut Romance Authors in 2013, and her debut Titan series was both a #1 romantic suspense and #1 military romance bestseller.

Website | Newsletter | Facebook | Team Titan Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Flash Point by Brooke Blaine

A Standalone Romantic Suspense Novel

Release Date: July 12, 2015

Synopsis

The first time I saw her, I knew I’d have to kill her.

It’s been five years since the brutal death of her mother, and Katherine Shaw still relives the nightmares of that night.

She escaped.

The danger should’ve been over.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

When her father, a prominent judge, receives a chilling death threat, her past comes hurtling into her present.

The warning is clear: They’ve got unfinished business, and they’re coming for her.

Katherine Shaw.

Rich girl? Check.

Spoiled and obstinate? Check.

A beautiful fireball who pushes every button he has? That was not listed on the dossier Jason Garrett receives when he’s assigned as one of her bodyguards. The last thing he ever expected was that his tempting client would prove to be more dangerous than those he’s protecting her from.

Their attraction would be forbidden even under the best circumstances. But as the threat draws near, the tension between the two of them rises, culminating in an explosive flash point that will blindside them both.

Check out our smooches review

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25522285-flash-point?ref=ru_lihp_up_rs_0_mclk-up2443317298

Excerpt from Flash Point

© Brooke Blaine 2015

The wind whipped around them suddenly, a ferocious gust that caused Katherine’s long locks to go flying in every direction. She looked a bit like Medusa right then, hair thrashing about like snakes, hypnotic jade eyes blazing, and just as she lifted the hood of her jacket over her head, the wind died down.

“Yeah, that just figures,” she muttered, as she put her hand inside the hood to smooth down her hair.

Jason’s phone buzzed in his pocket, the caller ID reading Thompson. He answered before the second ring. “Sir.”

“Just calling to check in with you, Garrett. I spoke with Kirkpatrick and went over the rundown on our end, and he gave me—”

“Ow, shit, motherfucker—”

A string of curses continued to fly from Katherine’s mouth, her arm caught in an awkward angle over her face. The bracelet on her wrist had hooked onto the jacket liner of her hood, and the more she tried to yank it free, the more it snagged.

Thompson’s voice turned apprehensive. “Is everything okay over there? Is that Katherine—”

“Yes, yes, she’s fine,” Jason said.

“She doesn’t sound fine.”

“Just a little…female issue.”

“Female issue…? Ohhhh. I see. Well, good luck with that. Talk later.” Thompson hung up swiftly, and Jason shook his head. Wimp.

Katherine stomped her foot as she continued to wrench her arm free, and he tried not to smirk at how ridiculous she looked.

I should just leave her like that, he thought in amusement.

“Are you gonna talk on the phone all night or are you gonna fucking help me sometime this century?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” he asked.

“No, what I want right about now is a chainsaw to free myself and then stick up your ass.”

He shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Sounds like foreplay.”

She stopped struggling for a moment, and he tried not to notice the way her shirt had ridden up to display a few inches of her creamy skin. “Now the sense of humor comes out? Now?”

Stepping forward, he grabbed her wrist with one hand and tried to get her bracelet free with the other, but it was lodged in tight. Her pulse beat rapidly under his thumb, and he stroked over it once before realizing what he’d done. A quiet gasp escaped Katherine’s lips.

“Hold still,” he murmured, tightening his grip. “It might hurt.”

With a quick snap, he ripped the hood away, a chunk of tattered material still clinging to the mangled jewelry. She pulled the bracelet off her arm and rubbed her wrist.

“Thanks,” she said, a bit breathless.

He nodded as he backed away, and she got the hint to keep moving and not mention it.

They walked together in silence, for once, until a cluster of buildings came into view, and Katherine directed them toward it. When he saw her look over at him from the corner of his eye, he braced himself for the next round of questioning he knew was coming.

“So…you never told me your first name,” she said.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well, that’s rude. I thought we just had a moment there, Jason.”

He stopped in his tracks, and she burst out in victorious laughter.

How the hell did she know that?

“And you thought I was unobservant.” She wore a smug look on her face. “I may be a lot of things, ruiner of jackets included, but give me a little credit here.”

“Where did you hear that?”

She shrugged. “It was a hunch. I’d referred to you as Jason Statham when I was talking to Steven at my father’s house, and I noticed you flinched when I said it. So, either you get that comparison a lot, or it was an involuntary reaction to hearing your name and trying not to react. Thank you for confirming my suspicions.”

Well I’ll be damned. Not just a pretty face, are you?

“Oh,” she said then, taking a step back. “Oh, no. That’s not…a tiny sliver of respect I see in your eyes, is it?”

He grimaced. “No.”

“Thank God,” she said with mock relief as she climbed the stairs to the main doors and stopped just outside them. “I couldn’t take it if you actually liked me.”

He had nothing to say to that, too busy trying to see past the mask she wore that he’d only briefly thought about earlier. She was observant. I wonder what else she’s hiding…

She turned around. “Can I ask you something?”

“God knows you would anyway.”

The Katherine that faced him now wore a serious expression, with no trace of the sarcastic woman he’d had to deal with the past few days. She cocked her head to the side as she studied his face.

“Are you always this much of an asshole with your clients, or am I just lucky?”

Before he could summon an answer, she reached for the door handle but then pulled away so he could enter first. She stayed beside him as she walked them to her class, and he knew she didn’t expect a response. After getting her settled and taking position against the wall nearby, he entertained her question.

Two things he knew for sure: First, he was definitely an asshole. And second, under the current circumstances, he’d never refer to Katherine Shaw as lucky.

About the Author:

You could say Brooke Blaine was a book-a-holic from the time she knew how to read; she used to tell her mother that curling up with one at 4 a.m. before elementary school was her ‘quiet time.’ Not much has changed except for the espresso I.V. pump she now carries around and the size of her onesie pajamas.

Flash Point is her debut solo novel, and she is the co-author of the erotic serial, A Desperate Man, with Ella Frank. The latter has scarred her conservative southern family for life, bless their hearts.

If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find – just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for ten years.

Contact Links

Newsletter Sign-up: http://eepurl.com/brxPkP

Website: http://www.brookeblaine.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer

Twitter: https://twitter.com/BrookeBlaine1

Google+: https://plus.google.com/+BrookeBlaine

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/BrookeBlaine

Instagram: www.instagram.com/BrookeBlaine1

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/brookeblaine11

Rafflecopter Giveaway:

a Rafflecopter giveaway