Are you ready to meet Landon Blackwell?

RELINQUISH IS NOW AVAILABLE!

**Can be read as a stand alone**

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Blurb

***WARNING*** This novel contains explicit language, sex, drugs, violence, and sexual situations that some might find offensive. This book is intended for adults 18+ years of age.

In my world, there is no such thing as love. It is just a lie we whisper into our client’s ear. Love is foreign and hazardous. What I did not expect was to bare my soul to a man who is as egotistical as he is dangerous.

His name is Landon. Despite his blackened soul, he tried to save me, but what he didn’t expect was my torturous fate to catch up with me.

To your father, I’m the escort.

To your mother, I’m the whore.

To the legal system, I’m the prostitute.

In the end, I’m just the other woman.

I have no idea if I will continue to survive, if I will ever find my path aside from the gritty streets I know so well. There is a good chance I will wind up in the ditch like most women in my position. Surrendering to my fate is the only choice I have. I must relinquish it all.

Check out our 5 smooches review HERE.

Excerpt :

Following Jayden across the way, I skim the crowd at the café and land on a pair of handsome eyes. So handsome, I stop walking.

Sitting at a table full of sexy men is a short, blond-haired guy, his face hard and chiseled. My God, his arms are pumped with muscle as his hands flex around a brown football. My core blossoms with incredible need as I eye his toned arms, and what I assume is a matching hard chest beneath his jersey.

“Charlie, let’s go!”Jayden yells, making me realize I’ve been standing here like an idiot, staring at a sexy stranger in a café. The guy smirks at me and tosses the football in the air, breaking eye contact.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, giving a small smile in return before walking forward. I suddenly crash into something, the impact throwing me back on my ass hard.

“Shit!”I shout with pain.

“Fuck!”roars a male voice standing above me. My eyes jolt upward to find a broad-shouldered man in a black suit, holding a broken plastic cup in one hand with coffee spilled all down his front.  My stomach tangles into a bundle of tight knots, and my hands tremble from the strength and power this man radiates. Oh, shit.

“I am so sorry!”I stand up and start frantically brushing at the man’s very expensive-looking suit. My God, it’s like rubbing a rock. His body is so toned and strong beneath my palms, which isn’t helping me get a grip on myself. My eyes skirt up his arms, finding the fabric stretched tight around his biceps and causing me to swallow the lump forming in my throat. The knots in my stomach crawl into a fit of butterflies, and my heart races. He’s handsome—intimidating, really. The way his toned body and squared shoulders take up the space takes my breath away. His jaw is chiseled to perfection with scruff claiming it perfectly. I bite my bottom lip to keep from moaning.

“It’s fine, really,”he states, his voice deep as he grabs my wrists to stop me from slapping at his stained shirt pathetically. My body sparks with electricity where he grips me firmly. My mouth parts and my breathing shallows as I slowly trail my eyes from his hold on my wrist to his eyes. They’re green with little brown flecks thrown around them. They’re captivating. His jawline is strong and defined, his nose broad, and his dark hair is smoothed back with just a trail hanging loosely out of place on the front of his forehead from our sudden run-in. He’s fucking gorgeous, and I can’t look away.

“Are you all right?”he questions, raising an eyebrow. His voice is low and rough, making my eyes focus on his mouth.

“I-”I stutter, completely lost in the thought of his luscious lips on mine. These lips are not like any belonging to the guys at my high school, that’s for sure. When you look at them, his lips look like they’re made to make love to a woman’s body. The thoughts of the glorious pleasure they could bring make my cheeks warm, my chest ache.

“Charlie, let’s go!”Jayden hollers, catching mine and Sexy Man In a Suit’s attention.

“That your friend?”he asks, his lips that hold the perfect cupid’s bow turn into a slight smirk.

I open my mouth to speak but a wild hiccup noise escapes instead, caused from the wild beat of my heart against my chest. I close my eyes, humiliated.

He chuckles, releasing his hold of my wrists. The way he laughs causes my skin to rise with goose bumps.

“I gotta go,”I whisper nervously. I look down and stride quickly toward Jayden, praying I don’t bump into any more hot men on the way.

“Lord, give me strength. Vegas is already becoming a bad influence,”I mutter, catching up with Jayden.

About the Author:

M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She’s a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn’t live with the “what if” anymore and finally took a chance on her character’s story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.

Stalk Her:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Shadow

B.L. Mooney and Laura Emory

Synopsis

I should be dead. I definitely shouldn’t be chasing the type of killers who ruined my life, but that’s what I do.

My mother was murdered when I was six years old and instead of running for help, I hid in the closet. Until the killer is found, I’m an unfinished job forced to look over my shoulder.

I’m Special Agent Brynn Bennett with the FBI, and I’m damn good at my job. My best friend and partner, Hunter Williams, and I track predators every day. It isn’t a job for little girls who hide in closets, but with Hunter by my side, there’s nothing I can’t face.

What I didn’t see coming was Benjamin Drake. He was next in line for the one-night stand I occasionally allowed myself, except he wants a happily ever after and he thinks I can give it to him.

I can handle death, monsters, and the evils that hide in the shadows, but a nice guy who wants to take care of me? I’m not so sure.

The better question is . . .

Can he handle me?

Excerpt

I take one last look to make sure my makeup is perfect and everything is in place as I hear the knock on the door. I nod to myself in the mirror. “You’ve got this.”

Shaking my head at my pathetic pep talk, I head for the door, but I don’t expect what I see once I open it. Ben is standing there with a couple of bags in his hands, but it’s the outfit that has me speechless. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, too. I can’t decide if he looks better casual or in a suit. They both make me want to rip his clothes off.

He clears his throat on my second trip down his body. “May I come in?”

Embarrassed I got caught looking at him so closely, I put my fingers to my forehead. “I’m sorry.” I look at him again and tilt my head. “I thought we were going out.”

“That was the original plan.” He shrugs and adjusts the bags. “Then I wondered why go out when all I could think about was taking you home.”

I look down his body that’s filling my doorway and back up to those lips I couldn’t get out of my mind the first night I met him. I probably would spend the entire evening trying to get him to take me home. I back up. “Please, come in.”

“I hope you like takeout.”

I shut the door behind him. “Yes, of course. I don’t cook a lot for myself.”

I walk over to the table where he set the bags, but before I’m able to look in them, he grabs me by the waist, pulls me close, and kisses me. Who needs dinner?

He kisses my neck and works his way up to my ear to whisper, “I brought dinner. You supply dessert.”

I’m breathless and can’t find my voice, but manage to whisper back, “Let’s see this dinner first.”

His eyebrows rise slightly, and even though he isn’t fully smiling, I can tell he’s amused by the crinkles next to his eyes. “You doubt my . . . dinner?”

How I find my voice is a mystery to me, but I do. “I’m a prove it kind of girl.”

His smile tells me he has no doubt proving it whenever I want. I want it now.

Social media links

B.L. Mooney

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Laura Emory

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Book: Forget (Changing Colors #1)

Author: N.A. Alcorn

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date – 16^th June

Brooke Sawyer is a successful record producer living in L.A. She has endured a lifetime’s worth of pain, but despite everything she’s been through, she still has the biggest heart. She’d do anything for the ones she loves, even putting their needs above her own. 

When she visits Paris for one month, the last thing she expects is to fall in love with gorgeous musician, Dylan Bissette. But he doesn’t know about Brooke’s life back home. He doesn’t know about Jamie.

The best way to keep a secret is to pretend there isn’t one.

~
Falling in love was not part of the plan.
He broke down my walls.
And the moment he whispered, “You’ve wrecked me, Little Wing,” I was done for.
I didn’t mean to fall in love, but Dylan made it too easy.
~
Meeting her was fate.
Pursuing her was a choice.
But falling in love with her was out of my control.
Brooke ruined me for everyone else.
~

Music connects them, but secrets may keep them apart.
This is just the beginning. Changing Colors, Part One

Check out our 4 smooches review

Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLTTKJ3AErp9tH5NTiRwpQ-AMzfE4Hk_0u

N.A. Alcorn resides in Northern Kentucky with her husband and son. Never following the norm, her style of romance “flies [outside the box.]” She is the author of the wildly hilarious Infamous Series, and has also delved into romantic suspense with her third release, Covertly Strong.

She loves music, can’t take a proper selfie if her life depended on it, refuses to parallel park, and probably has the most obnoxious laugh you’ll ever hear. If she could live off coffee and Reese’s Cups, she’d be one happy lady.

Procrastinator at heart, N.A. tells herself she’ll meet every deadline. Tomorrow. She’ll finish it tomorrow, she swears.

She loves meeting readers. Always feel free to send her an email or message.

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A Man without a past meets a man without a future in Repaired by Melissa Collins

Now Available!

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Blurb

Liam Davis is a man without a past. That’s what he wants everyone to believe, anyway. Hell-bent on erasing any memories of his previous life, he knows that starting over is all he can do. Hiding who he is, where he’s from, why he’s running, and especially who he’s left behind, Liam has run away from everything he’s ever known. His plan works perfectly until one day when Parker Ryan threatens to expose his carefully concealed world.

Parker Ryan is a man without a future. Sure, he’s a partner in one of New York’s most prestigious law firms, but he’ll never be more than a failure in the eyes of his boss, his father. Rather than break away from his father’s standards, he finds himself mindlessly pursuing them, in turn sacrificing anything that would actually make him happy.

When Liam’s and Parker’s lives collide, the ugly truth about who they really are, and who they hope to become reveals itself when they least expect it. As both of their lives become wrecked beyond all belief, they’ll learn how to rely on each other in their journey to become Repaired.

Excerpt:

Walking over to us with a full tray of shots, she winked at Annie. “To the birthday girl.”

We each took a glass, clinking them together before downing the clear liquid. “Shit, that reminds me of college.” Coughing, I dropped the glass back onto the tray as the 151 burned a path down my throat.

Liam had no such issues, easily swallowing his shot and the spare one that Annie hadn’t taken. Assuming the reason for her refusal was also the reason for the shocked look on Drea’s face, Annie quickly excused Paulie and herself to go and greet other guests. Drea trailed behind them like a lost puppy.

When I turned to look at Liam, a similar look of shock was on his face. His jaw was locked tight, so tight it looked like he might crack a tooth. “So,” I dragged out the word, wondering why the hell Liam was so pissed off.

Liam gave me no response, walking away from me and toward the bar. By the time I caught up to him, he’d already ordered another round of shots. Figuring the night was only getting started, I joined him in one more shot. I declined the next round, but watched on in amazement as he downed his fifth shot within a matter of ten minutes.

“You better slow down.” Liam was a grown man and could make his own decisions and maybe he had a high tolerance, but, in my experience, being as angry as he seemed to be and drinking was never a good combination.

Without moving his body an inch, he graced me with a rather seething look. “What the hell is your problem?” I snapped.

“Nothing,” he grumbled. Shifting his position, he rested his elbows on the bar top and cradled his head in his hands. “Look, it’s nothing, okay.” Finally turning his head to me, his tone softened. There was so much pain in his eyes it bordered on anguish. My gut told me a man like Liam wouldn’t deal well with pity, so instead of pushing the issue, I tipped my chin to the bartender, who was starting to become overwhelmed with the growing crowd.

After she handed me the round I’d ordered, Liam’s eyes widened in shock. “Calm down. I didn’t get these for you.” In quick succession, I downed the two shots. Slowly, and with determined purpose, I dragged the back of my hand across my lips. Liam’s tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his own lips, almost as if he was subconsciously reacting to my own movements. Angling my head out to the dance floor, I reached down for his hand. “Let’s go.” Even if he’d thought I was asking—which I wasn’t—he didn’t answer.

With his feet glued firmly to the spot, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Look, you don’t have–”

Stroking my thumb over the soft skin of his wrist, I interrupted him. “I know I don’t have to do anything, but right now, I want to dance. So unless you have some kind of objection to my body moving up against yours, or to other people seeing us out there, then you have no choice.”

Liam’s full lips quirked into a lazy grin, perhaps as a result of the alcohol, but I’d like to think it had more to do with me. “I don’t care who sees us,” he said with a carefree honesty.

“Good. Then let’s give them a show.”

For the briefest of seconds, I worried that maybe Liam didn’t dance, and that we were about to make terrible, drunken fools of ourselves, but that concern was all resolved when he started swaying his hips to the music. Shocked into staying still, I watched from his side, more than admiring the way his body swayed and popped. “Those are some mighty fine moves you’ve got there.” His joke was barely audible over the loud bass of the band, playing a cover of a rock song I’d heard once or twice. But his smile. Fuck, even in the dim, near-black nothingness of the bar, his smile lit up the room and it made it impossible not to fall in line behind him.

My hands fell to his hips, pulling his back right up against my front. With his ear right next to my mouth, I said, “I couldn’t get my brain, my feet, and my dick”—I pressed up against him as I pulled him back toward me to let him feel exactly what I’d meant—“to work all at the same time. Clearly, my body can only control two at a time.” Liam’s hands covered mine on his hips, his body gracefully undulating to the pulsing beat of the next, much slower, song.

Spinning to face me, he dropped his arms around my neck. Speaking just loud enough to be heard, he pressed his lips against my ear, sending an endless river of excitement coursing against my skin. “I like the way your body works.”

My hands found their way into his back pockets, squeezing the hard muscle of his ass. “Your body works pretty well, too.” Pressing my thigh in between his, I felt the hard heat of his erection. Almost as if there was nothing between us, I could feel his pulse beating along what I imagined was a thick vein running from his sac to his tip. My mouth watered at the thought of feeling it beat against my tongue. He adjusted his stance, allowing his dick to press up against mine and I barely concealed my pleasure, groaning into his ear. If the song had lasted a minute longer than it did, I would have come in my pants like some lust-ridden teenager jerking off for the first time.

Liam pulled back from me, angling his face in a way that caught the yellow-white glow of the lights he’d strung up earlier. Not for the first time, I was struck by how attractive he was. Everything about him was the definition of male beauty. From the naturally tanned skin and amber-brown eyes, to the day-old scruff dusting his jawline, to the rock hard muscles moving against mine; Liam was everything I wanted in a man.

And just as that thought barreled through my brain like a train inches away from derailing, he smiled at me—a gorgeously lopsided grin that somehow settled something in my brain and my body.

When I tried to make sense of it all, the band shifted gears once again, belting out the words to what was apparently Annie’s favorite song. The crowd quite literally went wild, filling what little space was left on the dance floor. We all moved together, laughing and having a genuinely good time.

Honestly, it was the most fun I had in recent memory. Watching Liam dance with his friends, getting lost in the music myself, it was as if I found a piece of myself I’d always been looking for. Or, to be more accurate, it was as if I found a part of myself I used to possess, but had somehow lost long ago.

About the Author:

Melissa Collins

Melissa Collins has always been a book worm. Studying Literature in college ensured that her nose was always stuck in a book. She followed her passion for reading to the most logical career choice: English teacher. Her hope was to share her passion for reading and the escapism of books to her students. Having spent more than a decade in front of a classroom, she can easily say that it’s been a dream.

Her passion for writing didn’t start until more recently. When she was home on maternity leave in early 2012, she read her first romance novel and her head filled with the passion, angst and laughter of the characters who she read about it. It wasn’t long before characters of her own took shape in her mind. Their lives took over Melissa’s brain and The Love Series was born.

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It’s finally my time.

Time to escape from my mother, her crazy antics and questionable morals. I’m getting the heck out of Dodge, leaving the trailer park, to make something of myself. Everything was fine until I walked into The Unacceptables’ bar and met Abel Hellock. With his gorgeous muscles, tattoos, motorcycle and perfect smile, my knees quaked. My life was about to be sucked back into the seedy underbelly I fought so desperately to climb out of.

Everything was fine until I met my step-brother for the first time.

**18+ for sexual situations, language, and adult themes**

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You want to know more about me? Well, let’s see…
I am just an average twenty-something following my dreams. I have a full time “day job” and by night I am author. I guess you could say that writing is like my super power (I always wanted one of those). I am the lover of wine, sushi, football and the ocean; that is when I am not wrapped up in the literary world.
Please feel free to contact me to chat about my writing, books you think I’d like or just to shoot the, well you know.
A portion of all my royalties are donated to The Marcie Mazzola Foundation.

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EXCERPT

FOUR WEEKS

I’ve never been so hopeful as when I board the pristine glass elevator at the M4 corporate building. A handful of employees ride along with me, murmuring perfunctory greetings to each other and to me. I think my mouth must be on vacation because I can’t seem to force it to speak. But I smile in reply—my smile nervous, nervous but hopeful, definitely hopeful. My riding companions step out on their floors one by one until I’m alone, riding up to the executive floor on my own.

Toward him.

Toward the man I love.

My body is raging. My blood is pumping—my blood is storming—my thighs are shaking. My stomach feels filled with little earthquakes that just won’t quit, then they turn into a full-fledged roil when I hear the elevator ting at his floor.

Stepping out, I’m in corporate nirvana, surrounded by sleek chrome and pristine glass, marble and limestone floors. But I hardly have eyes for anything except the tall and imposing frosted glass doors at the far end of the room.

Framing those doors to each side is a pair of sleek designer desks, for a total of four.

Behind these desks are four women in identical black-and-white suits, sitting behind their gleaming dark-oak desks, working quietly behind their flat-screen computers.

One of them, the forty-year-old Catherine H. Ulysses—right hand of the man who owns every inch of this building—stops what she’s doing when she sees me. She arches her brow, then seems both tense and relieved as she lifts the receiver on her desk and murmurs my name into it.

I. Am. Not. Breathing.

But Catherine doesn’t miss a beat as she motions me toward the huge frosted doors—those intimidating doors—that lead into the lair of the most powerful man in Chicago.

The human being with the most powerful effect on me.

This is what I’ve been waiting for, for four weeks. This is what I wanted when I left a thousand messages on his phones and what I wanted when I wrote a thousand others that I left unsent. To see him.

For him to want to see me.

But as I force myself to step forward, I don’t even know if I’ll have the strength to stand before him and look him in the eye after what I did.

I’m wracked so hard with nervousness and anticipation and hope—yes hope, small but bright, even as I shake like a leaf.

Catherine holds the door open, and I struggle to hold my head high and walk into his office.

Two steps inside I hear the swoosh of the glass door shutting behind me and my systems halt at the familiar sight of the most beautiful office I’ve ever been in.

His office is all vast marble and chrome, twelve-foot ceilings, and endless floor-to-ceiling windows.

And there he is. The center of its axis. The center of my world.

He’s pacing by the window, speaking into a headset in a low, low voice—the kind he uses when he’s pissed. All I can make out are the words have to be dead to let her fall into his clutches …

He hangs up, and as if he feels me in the room, he turns his head. His eyes flare when he sees me. His green eyes.

His achingly familiar, beautiful green eyes.

He inhales, very slowly, his chest expanding, his hands curling a little at his sides as he looks at me.

I look back at him.

Malcolm Kyle Preston Logan Saint.

I just walked into the eye of the most powerful storm of my life. No. Not a storm. A hurricane.

Four weeks, I haven’t seen him. And he still looks exactly as I remember. Larger than life, and more irresistible than ever.

His striking face is perfectly shaven today, and his sensual lips look so achingly full I can almost feel them against mine. Six-feet-plus of perfectly controlled male power stand before me, in a perfect black suit and a killer tie. He’s the very devil in Armani; strong-boned, square-jawed, gleaming dark hair and those penetrating eyes.

He’s got the best eyes.

They twinkle mercilessly when he teases me, and when he doesn’t tease me, they’re mysterious and unreadable, assessing and intelligent, keeping me guessing about his thoughts.

But I had forgotten how cold those eyes used to be. Green arctic ice looks back at me now. Every fleck of ice in those eyes gleaming like diamond shards.

He clenches his jaw and tosses the headset aside.

          He looks as approachable as a wall, his shoulders stretching his white shirt, which clings to his skin like a groupie. But I know he’s not a wall; I’ve never wanted to throw myself at a wall like this.

He’s walking towards me. Every step he takes makes my heart pound as he moves with that quiet and confident own-the-world stride of his.

He stops a few feet away and shoves his hands into his pants pockets; and he seems so big all of a sudden, and he smells so utterly good. I drop my eyes to his tie as the little candle of hope I walked in with starts to flicker with doubt.

For every sin there is a sinner!

Manwhore + 1 is now available for pre-order

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Submit your proof of pre-order and get an early peek at Ms. Manwhore, the last of Saint and Rachel’s passionate love story. Click here to enter: http://www.katyevans.net/pre-order-bonus/

Blurb

The unexpected love story that began in MANWHORE continues heating up the pages in MANWHORE +1 by New York Times bestselling author Katy Evans…

Billionaire playboy? Check.

Ruthless businessman? Check.

Absolutely sinful? Check.

Malcolm Saint was an assignment. A story. A beautiful, difficult man I was supposed to uncover for a racy exposé.

I intended to reveal him, his secrets, his lifestyle–not let him reveal me. But my head was overtaken by my heart and suddenly nothing could stop me from falling. I fell for him, and I fell hard.

Malcolm Saint is absolute Sin, and I’ve become a hopeless Sinner.

Now that the assignment is over, Saint wants something from me–something unexpected–and I want this wicked playboy’s heart. But how can I prove to the man who trusts no one that I’m worthy of becoming his plus one?

Manwhore (Book One)

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About the Author:

Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!

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*******COVER REVEAL*************

Loving the White Liar by Kate Stewart

Coming July 2015

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25656368-loving-the-white-liar

I met my true love when I was twenty-seven. He was handsome, charming, witty, and irresistible. Jayden Monroe came along when I was struggling with
indecision and made things simple, turned monochrome into vivid color, and forever altered my perspective on life.

I was not naive enough to believe in happily ever after, but with Jayden, it seemed possible . . . until I realized something wasn’t quite right.

You see, I met a man who would be anyone I needed him to be, and after I found out that fact, I knew it would be impossible to walk away. His disorder,
however, would change everything I ever thought about love and what it truly meant to accept someone for who they are.

This is not my sob story; this is his success story

Author Links:

Website: http://www.katestewartwrites.com/

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