vrijdag 9 januari 2015

Cover Reveal: MANWHORE by Katy Evans


book #1 of 'the manwhore series' 

March 24, 2015 

Is it possible to expose Chicago’s hottest player—without getting played? 

This is the story I've been waiting for all my life, and its name is Malcolm Kyle Preston Logan Saint. Don’t be fooled by that last name though. There’s nothing holy about the man except the hell his parties raise. The hottest entrepreneur Chicago has ever known, he’s a man’s man with too much money to spend and too many women vying for his attention.

Mysterious. Privileged. Legendary. His entire life he’s been surrounded by the press as they dig for tidbits to see if his fairytale life is for real or all mirrors and social media lies. Since he hit the scene, his secrets have been his and his alone to keep. And that’s where I come in.

Assigned to investigate Saint and reveal his elusive personality, I’m determined to make him the story that will change my career.

But I never imagined he would change my life. Bit by bit, I start to wonder if I'm the one discovering him...or if he's uncovering me.

What happens when the man they call Saint, makes you want to sin?


Pre-order links:

Kindle: http://amzn.to/1wCc6Nz 

iBookstore: http://bit.ly/1xYs8r8 

Nook: http://bit.ly/1BUNMKj 

Amazon print: http://amzn.to/1DFXWQr 

B&N print: http://bit.ly/1tT19vA

BAM: http://bit.ly/1BUOc3B 

IndieBound: http://bit.ly/1sdhgmI 

S&S: http://bit.ly/1x3F08a

donderdag 8 januari 2015

Claiming Addison 69 BOTTLES #1 by Zoey Derrick


For Addison Beltrand, PR rep for Bold International, Inc. climbing the corporate ladder is all that matters in life. Her hard work is finally rewarded with the promotion she’s worked her ass off to earn—but the gig comes at a price. She leaves in two days for a twelve-week tour with America’s hottest alternative rock band, 69 Bottles.

Talon Carver, lead singer of 69 Bottles, has no problem with women--as long as they’re gone by morning. When Addison shakes up his world, it’s a huge problem—compounded by the fact that Addison’s not the only one he wants.

Kyle Black, manager of 69 Bottles, has a secret. He and Addison are closer than she thinks, but telling her could keep her away. When Talon sets his sights on Addison, Kyle uses his secret to pushher into Talon’s arms, only to discover she isn’t the only one he needs.

Two men. One dilemma.

Talon is wild, reckless and loves control.

Kyle is calm, collected and loves passion.

The perfect balance…or Addison’s ultimate undoing?

Talon and Kyle push their boundaries and Addison’s, but can they throw their reservations to the wind and claim her together?

Two men. One woman. A rock band.A tour bus. One Wild Ride…

****Content Warning**** 

Sexy, naked, bisexual rock stars…and a lot more…

This book contains, but is not limited to the following sexual content – reader discretion is advised - hot sex between two men and one woman. M/M/F, M/F/M, M/F, F/M and M/M sexual content. There are no boundaries when these three crash together, as long as you’re over 18 years of age.

BUY Links: 

Amazon /  iTunes / Kobo / ARe

Claiming Addison Excerpt

“What’s going on in here?”
Shit, it’s Talon. “Nothing.” I sober quickly but Kyle has no intention.
“Addison’s a fan.” Oh my god, traitor. I go beet red.
“You weren’t supposed to fucking say anything,” I bark at him.
Talon just stares and laughs, “I would’ve never guessed, at least not with the way you were busting everyone’s balls earlier.
Most fans don’t do that.” I laugh. “No, they don’t, but while I am a huge fan of your music, I didn’t find out until Tuesday that you’re a Bold client, let alone the fact that I’ve never looked at any pictures or really read anything about you guys before coming on board today.” He’s shocked at my revelation. “I never really have time for personal investigations of rock stars and once I found out about coming on board, I didn’t have enough time to get through the packet of information. Besides, I don’t like tainted opinions of clients, I’d rather form my own.”
Talon smiles and his cheeks turn slightly pink. “So, you’re a fan?” I look him square in the eye. “Huge.” “You want an autograph?” “Oh my god.” I bust out laughing. “Is that how you pick up the chicks?” “Hey it works, Red, trust me.” I laugh a little more. “I don’t doubt it. But no, I don’t want an autograph, I’m sure by the time this tour’s over I will run away screaming.” “God, I hope not,” he says with that sweet sultry voice of his and I want to melt into a pool on my bed. My nipples tighten and once again my pussy moistens with wanton need, a desperate need for Talon Carver.


Zoey Derrick is a Best Selling Author of Contemporary, Erotic, Erotic Romance and Paranormal Romance from Glendale Arizona. She was once a mortgage underwriter and she now writes full time.

She writes stories as hot as the desert sun itself. It is this passion that drips off of her work, bringing excitement to anyone who enjoys a good and sensual love story.

Not only does she aim to take her readers on an erotic dance that lasts the night, it allows her to empty her mind of stories we all wish were true.
 Her stories are hopeful yet true to life, skillfully avoiding melodrama and the unrealistic, bringing her gripping Erotica only closer to the heart of those that dare dipping into it.

The intimacy of her fantasies that she shares with her readers is thrilling and encouraging, climactic yet full of suspense. She is a loving mistress, up for anything, of which any reader is doomed to return to again and again.

Social Media: 

dinsdag 6 januari 2015

BLOG TOUR ~ SIX GUNS Volume 1 by Sara V. Zook

Circumstance tends to bend our lives, sometimes in a direction of discomfort. Nicky Cain thought the favor he owed was a one time thing. Even a gun feels foreign in his hand. But now he’s been offered a new sports car, a beautiful home and a name for himself in the City of Haven. Having being raised with nothing, Nicky finds himself in the midst of temptations hard to turn down. All he has to do is toughen up his conscience and not question what he’s been told to do. He’s getting in too deep, and the circumstances keep presenting themselves including a beautiful woman who captivates his heart. Haven is sucking him in and becoming too much like a home. Nicky Cain has to face the fact that sometimes you don’t choose the mob life, the life chooses you.

An arm slipped around my chest. I looked over at the naked girl beside me and smiled.
“You okay?” she asked as her fingertips lightly glided along my skin, her nails painted dark red.
“Yeah,” I told her. “Just can’t sleep.”
She smiled back as she snuggled up closer to me. I stared at her face. She had light blue eyes that wrinkled at the corners when she spoke. Her teeth were a little crooked, but I decided she was an okay looking girl, a little ragged, but not bad. She hadn’t talked that much. She closed her eyes as I continued to stare at her.
“Hey,” I said, nudging her awake again. “What’d you say your name was again?”
She smiled and sat up on her elbows, pulling the sheet up over her exposed chest. “Steph.”
That’s right. Steph. I remembered now.
“You said you liked it,” she reminded me, “you know, my name?” She grinned revealing those teeth again, which were a little frightening. Maybe I was wrong. The teeth completely changed my opinion about her being okay looking. I didn’t want to see that smile again.
I turned my back to her and sat on the edge of the bed. I raked my fingers through my hair and put on some shorts. I thumbed through a few bills from the stack of cash Carmine had given me. “Yeah, sure. Steph suits you just fine.” I turned and handed her some money. “You’d better get going.”
She pressed her lips together and frowned as she examined the money in her hand. “Stan, what the hell is this?”
Stan? Then I remembered why she was calling me that. “What do you mean what’s it for? It’s for last night.”
“I’m not a fuckin’ hooker you asshole!” she bellowed out.
“You’re not?”
Holy shit. I could’ve sworn she was a prostitute. I wanted to ask her if she was sure, but I figured that probably wouldn’t go over too well. “Oh, well, sorry then. You can keep the money just the same.”
She glared at me with these huge eyes as if she didn’t know whether she was going to keep the money or punch me in the face. I deserved the punch in the face either way. She angrily got dressed and headed to the door as she slipped her heels on. “I have never been so insulted in my whole life.”
I shrugged. I just wanted her to go. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
“Don’t ever look me up again if you’re back in Haven,” Steph warned me.
I turned my head away from her. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
I could feel her eyes on me even though I wasn’t looking at her. “You fuckin’ prick,” she huffed out as she opened the door to the room and slammed it shut behind her.
“Yes, I am,” I replied to the empty room as I stood up and locked it. I turned back around and headed toward the bathroom. I really needed a shower.

I was so excited to read this book!
This was my first book I have read from Sara v. Zook and it did not dissapoint me.
I really enjoyed it. 

A slow build up to a the point where Nicky & Lilah meet each other and then.....

Well DONE Sara.

I cant wait to read Volume 2!

Sara V. Zook is a paranormal/fantasy writer. She is the author of the Strange in Skin Trilogy, Clipped, Evanescent, Book 1 in The Sempiternal Series and A Magic Within. She lives in Pennsylvania with her 3 small children and husband.

Cover Re-Reveal ~ Where We Belong by K.L. Grayson


Regret . . . she's a snarky little bitch.

I’ve tried several times to regret the events that took place on June 5, 2008, but for the life of me, I can’t. I'd never regret the pain, the suffering, or the heartache because it ultimately led me to the place I am now. And I can’t regret the place I am now. What I still can't figure out is this: how is it possible that the single worst day of my life inadvertently became the very best day?

Five years ago my life was irrevocably changed.

Seventeen minutes was all it took—
to lose my best friend…
to lose the love of my life…

Seventeen minutes was all it took for the seeds of hope—the seeds of my future—to be planted in the worst possible way.

My name is Harley Thompson, and this is my story.

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Buy Links:

About K.L. Grayson:

K.L. Grayson resides in a small town outside of St. Louis, MO. She is entertained daily by her extraordinary husband, who will forever inspire every good quality she writes in a man. Her entire life rests in the palms of six dirty little hands, and when the day is over and those pint-sized cherubs have been washed and tucked into bed, you can find her typing away furiously on her computer. She has a love for alpha-males, reading, tattoos, sunglasses, and happy endings … and not particularly in that order.


Excerpt #1

Slumping down onto the picnic table, I close my eyes, praying that this was all a bad dream and I just have to wake up. Realistically, I know it’s not, but there is always that small window of time right after something horrible happens when you feel like if you hope and pray hard enough, you can actually rewind time and undo what’s been done.
I grip my hair tightly at the scalp and watch as my tears cascade off my face and hit the table below. I'm not sure how long I sit, but eventually I get up and pace the alley behind the bar, trying to wrap my head around everything that just happened. This is why I never told him before...for exactly this reason.
What on earth have I done?
He can’t seriously end our friendship.
He can’t really walk away.
There is way too much history for him to do that. Right?
A gravelly, slurred voice interrupts my thoughts. "Harley? That you?" The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I squint through my tears, trying to see whom the drunken voice belongs to. Relief washes over me at the familiar face. I try to respond, but a deep sob comes out instead. He moves to my side quickly. "You're crying," he says, putting a comforting hand to my back. "Please don't cry."
I normally wouldn't get this close to someone who isn't Tyson or Quinn, but right now I need the familiarity and comfort he offers. In a desperate move, I wrap my arms around his middle, bury my face in his chest, and cry like I've never cried before.
The stench of smoke deeply rooted in his shirt fills my nostrils and the stale odor of liquor makes me sick as he whispers calming words in my ear. I should be worried. I've heard that he's gotten into some heavier drugs recently, but I know I'm safe.
We stand there for several minutes, neither of us saying a word. His body sways slightly to the left. I grip him tightly to steady his balance and raise my eyes to his. "Are you okay?"
His red-rimmed, glossy eyes lock onto mine, but he doesn't respond. I watch as his expression changes. A shiver runs up my spine as goose bumps immediately cover my body. "Are you okay?" I repeat, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. Loosening my grip, I attempt to step back, but his arms tighten around me.
"You always smell so good," he slurs, his eyes roaming my face. His hand slides up my back and to my neck. He wraps his fingers around my hair and tugs, forcing my head to snap back. Leaning into me, he runs his nose along the side of my neck, and my stomach churns. "I would have given you anything. But I wasn't good enough for you, was I?" I don't respond and he yanks my hair again, arching my back. "Was I?" he seethes.
I’ve never been in a situation where I feel legitimately uncomfortable in the presence of another human being, but right here...in this second...I am terrified. Adrenalin courses through my body. My heart slams violently in my chest and my muscles tense as terror washes through me. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. A sharp pain rips through my scalp. My face smacks the ground, and a metallic taste fills my mouth.

Please, God. Please let me survive this.

Excerpt #2

"Okay. First of all," she says, waving her fork in the air, "don't ever say that again! Balls are not strong. Growing a set of balls will not make you stronger. Now, a vagina, that's strong. Take your vagina, for example. You pushed out a ten-pound baby without a lick of medicine. That," she shoves a bite in her mouth, "is a strong vagina. You’ve got like the superhero of all vaginas!" I'm at a loss for words. Quinn is known for her random rants, but this is way off-the-wall. I keep staring. What the hell do I say to that? She's right. My vagina freakin' rocks!
A deep cough sounds behind me and I turn around to see a woman about my age, slapping her husband on the back. Said husband is looking at Quinn and I with a horrified expression and an extremely red face. I can't help but smile when his obviously pregnant wife slides out of the booth, tosses some money on the table, and high-fives me on her way out of the diner.

Excerpt #3

His cerulean eyes and deep voice are hypnotizing and have me completely paralyzed. Using the back of his hand, he slides his fingers over my cheek. “You’re flushed,” he says softly as his hands trail down my neck, “and your pulse is racing.” As his fingertips reach the swell of my breast, he murmurs, “And you’re breathless.”
Fuck me running. This guy is sex on a stick and I'm horny as hell.
Levi leans down, the stubble on his square jaw tickling me as he nuzzles the soft spot below my ear. Dropping my head, I can’t help but watch as his hand descends past my breast and under the soapy water.
Keep going, you’re almost there.
His hand is no longer visible, but I can sure as hell feel every inch of skin it’s grazing under the water. His touch is leaving behind a tingly goodness that is quickly building the tension back up in my body. I tilt my head up, offering him my mouth, and he quickly accepts the invitation. Molding his soft lips to mine, I allow him in and our tongues begin to slide against one another effortlessly.