Showing posts with label Excerpt reveal. Show all posts

Thursday, July 25, 2019

[Excerpt Reveal & One Week Countdown]: FEAST OF SPARKS by Sierra Simone

FEAST OF SPARKS (Thornchapel #2) by Sierra Simone

Release Date: August 1st

Cover Designer: Hang Le

Photographer: Regina Wamba

Add to Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/44434266-feast-of-sparks

PRE-ORDER FEAST OF SPARKS (THORNCHAPEL #2) TODAY!

Amazon US: http://mybook.to/feastofsparks

Amazon INTL: http://mybook.to/feastofsparks

Apple Books: https://sierrasim.one/iSparks

Nook: sierrasim.one/NookSparks

Kobo: sierrasim.one/KoboSparks

Google Play: COMING SOON

Goodreads: sierrasim.one/SparksGR

START THE SERIES TODAY WITH A LESSON IN THORNS (Thornchapel #1)

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2OgiJGp

Amazon INTL: mybook.to/ALIT

B&N: http://bit.ly/2UO1VsN

Apple Books: https://apple.co/2HJxKiI

Blurb:

I’m an outcast and a loner, named for death itself. Fate wasn’t supposed to have plans for me.

But then she came back—the girl I once kissed in a thorn-covered chapel in the woods. She came back, and I could no more resist her than I could pry out my own heart. And by some trick of fate, she wants me as much as I want her. The only problem? She also wants the man who owns Thornchapel, Auden Guest.

And so do I.

Eight years ago, I did something to Auden, something terrible. He hurt me back the only way he knew how, and so here we are: our hatred seasoned with pain and my loneliness seasoned with longing. The only thing we can agree on is Proserpina Markham, and she wants us to find a way to be together—all three of us.

If Auden wants to earn her as his submissive, then he has to earn me as well.

But with the discovery of bones behind the altar and the carnal revel of Beltane fast approaching, it’s becoming clear that Thornchapel’s secrets are much deeper and older than any of us could have ever guessed. And no matter how bright and merry a feast of sparks may be, it’s always followed by ashes.

And darkness.

Excerpt:

I can feel that beat, that pulsing, between the three of us so strongly right now, and I know Auden and Poe can too. I know they can feel that what we have together is more than biology, more than our odd little religion, more than years of knowing each other.

Those things we have with the other three in our group.

But this? This holy, ravening, primal, and marrow-deep need for each other? This is something unique to the three of us, and there’s no denying it, no arguing with it.

Fighting it is as pointless as screaming up at a storm on the heath.

Auden reaches down with his other hand; I hear the tear of fabric. The muscles in his arm contract and flex as he works her underneath her skirt. “So wet, little bride,” he purrs. “So ready to be fucked in this little hole.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me forward before I can react, and he guides me to her. Past the tear in her cute librarian tights to the place where she’s wet enough that a man could shove in with a single stroke. My shaft—huge and latex-shiny in the dark—pulses as Auden presses my fingers into her with his own until two of my fingers are curling up inside her and both our hands are wet.

Poe rocks against us both, her hands scrabbling for any kind of purchase until she manages to brace one on the bookshelf behind her and the other on Auden’s shoulder.

“Please, please fuck me,” she begs, and I know at this point she doesn’t care who she’s talking to. Auden or me—or hell, maybe Rebecca or Delphine or Becket.

“Oh, we’re going to,” Auden growls, and I like that we, I like it so much that I couldn’t deny Poe is right about fixing whatever is between the three of us even if I wanted to.

Could I have ever been content without knowing this? Knowing the feel of Auden’s hands on my hips as they are now, guiding me between Proserpina’s waiting thighs as she wraps her arms around my neck? Knowing once again the feel of being between them, as I was that night, of Auden reaching around me and gripping my cock with a casual arrogance that has me shuddering?

He notches my tip against her, his hand moving past me to grip her arse under her skirt, and then he brings us together, like we’re his to join. His pets to breed, his concubines to amuse him. It’s this I’m thinking of as I sink deep into Poe, letting out a long breath as her sweetness grips me, squeezes me.

“How does she feel?” Auden asks in my ear. He sounds bored, but I know that trick for what it is; I know that when his blood gets hot, his voice gets cold. And maybe it’s the thrills dancing up my body from the head of my cock to the soles of my feet, maybe it’s Poe biting her lower lip like she wishes it were my mouth she was nibbling—or maybe it’s the sheer fucking filth of this moment, Auden and me wedging her against the bookshelves in the dark while the others continue to laugh and drink only a stone’s throw away—

Whatever it is, I want to test Auden’s coolness, I want to make him feel for me just a little bit of what I feel for him always—desperate, clawing ache. A pining so animalistic and rough it shames me.

I want him to shame me.

And maybe it’s that last impulse more than anything that makes me do it. I turn my head to his—he’s so close that I can feel his breath on my cheek, so warm in the cool air of the library—and I kiss his throat. Right next to his Adam’s apple, right in the little hollow there. I kiss him and then I part my lips just enough to taste him with a small dart of my tongue. He tastes like clean skin with just the barest hint of sweat, like a man just beginning to get worked up. And he smells—God, he smells how he always smells.

Like this wonderful, terrible place tucked into the wild, wind-whipped moors. Like Thornchapel.

He stills at the touch of my lips, as if he can’t bear to breathe, and then at the flicker of my tongue, he lets out a low sound of fury. For a minute I wonder if he’ll hit me again, and I don’t care how wrong it is, how against the rules of kink, I want to eat up all his passion, all of his energy, I want him to be lost like me and I want to see it and feel it and take it into my body to remember as long as I live.

He doesn’t hit me.

He bites me.

About the Author:

Sierra Simone is a USA Today Bestselling former librarian (who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk.) She lives with her husband and family in Kansas City.

Connect w/Sierra Simone:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Sierra-Simone-497450453680395/?fref=ts

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/SierraSimonesLambs

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheSierraSimone

Amazon : http://amzn.to/1PDR4K4

Goodreads : http://bit.ly/1oo9WEh

Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/thesierrasimone/

Website: http://authorsierrasimone.com/

Subscribe to Sierra's newsletter: sierrasim.one/getmyemails

Thursday, September 27, 2018

[Cover & Excerpt Reveal]: LOVING MR. CANE by Shanora Williams

Check out this gorgeous cover for LOVING MR. CANE by Shanora Williams! She's given us an amazing excerpt too! Don't forget to add it to your TBR!

LOVING MR. CANEDesigned by: By Hang LeAdd LMC to your TBR --> http://bit.ly/2Lrnmyk

Blurb:

KANDY

When I was a little girl, Mr. Cane was my whole world.

He was perfect and handsome and the best thing to have ever happened to my family.

As I grew up, those feelings changed. I wanted him in every possible way, and I got what I’d been craving.

Then I learned things about him…dangerous things.

I was too stubborn to heed his warnings—too naive to see the complicated mess unfolding right in front of me.

My life was torn to shreds because of my desire for him, but how am I supposed to stop loving a man who still means so much to me?

CANE

I knew from the start that I should have stayed away from Kandy, but my stubborn heart wouldn’t let me.

I’ve done things I’m not proud of to get to where I am now, and because of it, monsters lurk deep within my shadows, ready to pull me under. She’s better off without me. I know it but still, I can’t let her go. She’s my girl. My everything.

I will fight for our love, even if it means losing everything I worked so hard for in the end.

Excerpt:

On the way up the elevator, it was only us, and as soon as the doors closed, Cane stepped in front of me, caging me between his arms.

“What are you doing?” I asked, smiling, my breaths ragged.

Our foreheads connected and his lips came down on mine. He kissed me whole and deep, and it was so unexpected, but I melted with the kiss anyway. I felt like I was going to turn into a pile of mush by how intense it was. I curled my fingers into his black jacket, bringing my other hand up and curling those fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

A moan gushed out of me, and Cane started to pull away when the elevator chimed, but I didn’t want the kiss to stop. I reeled him back in, grabbing a handful of his jacket. A deep groan erupted from his chest and he picked me up in his arms, carrying me out of the elevator.

I don’t know what came over me at that point. I suppose this always happened. We’d kiss so hard, grind, tug, and pant, but as soon as he got down there, I’d panic. I always panicked.

Cane stumbled toward our room door. I felt him digging in his pockets with one hand for the key. Once retrieved, he stuck it into the lock, pushing the door open, all while I kissed him on his lips, his neck, his cheeks, anywhere I could put my mouth. The door automatically shut behind us and he wasted no time going toward the bed.

My heartbeat ratcheted as he placed me down and then climbed on top of me, making out with me just as passionately as he had in the elevator. He sucked my bottom lip between his teeth and a soft groan filled my throat. I was heated, ready…but so fucking terrified. God, why was I so scared?

Catch up with this must-read series here-->

FREE WITH KINDLE UNLIMITED! →http://mybook.to/WantingMrCane

FREE WITH KINDLE UNLIMITED ➜ mybook.to/BreakingMrCane

About the Author:

Shanora Williams is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who loves writing about flawed heroes and resilient heroines. She is a believer that love outweighs all, but doesn't have a problem making her characters fight for their happily ever after.

She currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina and is the mother of two amazing boys, has a fiercely devoted and supportive fiancé, and is a sister to eleven.

When she isn’t writing, she’s spending time with her family, binge reading, or running marathons on Netflix while scarfing down chocolate chip cookies.

www.shanorawilliams.com

Sign Up For New Release Alerts!

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

-->

Monday, September 24, 2018

[EXCERPT REVEAL]: MEDICINE MAN by Saffron A. Kent

Medicine Man by Saffron A. Kent

Release Date: September 27th
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Add To Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39095082-medicine-man

99¢ PRE-ORDER PRICE!!

Pre-Order Today!

Amazon Universal: https://amzn.to/2I6Ax3A

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2znIbni

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2OO6qAI

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2OKrCYi

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2DkM0xC

BLURB

Willow Taylor lives in a castle with large walls and iron fences. But this is no ordinary castle. It’s called Heartstone Psychiatric hospital and it houses forty other patients. It has nurses with mean faces and techs with permanent frowns.

It has a man, as well. A man who is cold and distant. Whose voice drips with authority. And whose piercing gray eyes hide secrets, and maybe linger on her face a second too long.

Willow isn’t supposed to look deep into those eyes. She isn’t supposed to try to read his tightly leashed emotions. And neither is she supposed to touch herself at night, imagining his powerful voice and that cold but beautiful face.

No, Willow Taylor shouldn’t be attracted to Simon Blackwood, at all.

Because she’s a patient and he’s her doctor. Her psychiatrist.

The medicine man.

WARNING: This book discusses sensitive issues including but not limited to, depression and suicide.

Excerpt

“I… Can I go now?” I whisper.

He bends toward me. Not like he did yesterday when he was all shaken up and furious. This leaning is slow and filled with a different kind of intensity.

“No.”

I swallow, looking into his eyes, which have moved down to my lips. Has he ever looked at my mouth before? I can’t remember. He’s always been so professional and distant that just one look of his seems exaggerated, almost too much to handle.

“W-why not?”

“Because I’m curious about something.”

I lick my lower lip. I swear it’s not meant to be provocative. It’s just that his stare is making them tingle and dry out. I didn’t know that a body part could be shy until this man focused on it like this.

“About what?”

Again, I’m expecting one thing but something entirely different happens. Instead of answering with his words, he touches me. Of his own volition.

His hands wrap around my neck, his fingers spanning the entire length of my throat, tilting my face up. My eyes are wide; I can feel it. I can feel them popping out. I can feel my heart popping out too, bursting with too many beats.

He’s touching me.

Touching. The litmus test of attraction.

“I’m curious about,” he whispers, his breath wafting over my nose, drugging my senses. “Why the fuck do I want to kiss you?”

“What?”

My hands reach up and hold his wrists. I feel like my world just went unsteady and I can’t stand up straight without his help.

Did he just… Did he say he wants to kiss me?

There’s a slight frown on his forehead, as if he’s genuinely perplexed. As if I’m a riddle and so is his desire to kiss me.

“It doesn’t make sense.” His gray, almost black, gaze flicks back and forth. “You’re my patient. You’re my responsibility. I’m supposed to fix you, not think about your lips. I’m not supposed to think about your mouth or the taste of your tongue. If you really taste like you smell.”

“How… How do I smell?”

His chuckle is short and harsh as he moves his hand and grabs my face. “Like lemons. Like you’ve been sucking on lemon wedges all day long with that pink mouth of yours.”

I feel the heat of his hand on my flesh. He’s burning up, slowly boiling over. “I-I… It’s the lime jello,” I reply, as if that’s the most important thing in the world right now. Explaining the source of my smell and possibly my taste too.

“You’re not my type,” he growls, pushing his forehead against mine.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re young. You’re reckless. Inexperienced. You believe in happy endings, don’t you? Fairy tales and fucking magic.”

His breaths are wild, frustrated. Like believing in good things is a bad habit. Believing in something bigger than you is silly.

I frown, pressing harder against his forehead. “Of course I do. If someone like me doesn’t believe in magic, then there’s no hope for anyone else. There’s no hope for me. And it’s not a bad thing, you know. It’s not a bad thing to believe in something. In fact, it shows that you’re brave and –”

His mouth pulls into a humorless smile. “And you don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”

“Hey –”

“Willow.”

He flattens my cheeks with his hands, asserting all his stupid authority over me. Too bad it only makes me hornier and I have to clench my thighs against the shivers running through my lower body.

“What?” I somehow manage to squeak.

“Shut the fuck up.”

I gasp; how dare he?

But it gets swallowed up by his mouth.

About the Author

Writer of bad romances. Aspiring Lana Del Rey of the Book World.

Saffron A. Kent is a Top 100 Amazon Bestselling author of Contemporary and New Adult romance. More often than not, her love stories are edgy, forbidden and passionate. Her work has been featured in Huffington Post, New York Daily News and USA Today’s Happy Ever After.

She lives in New York City with her nerdy and supportive husband, and a million and one books.

Connect with Saffron

Website: http://www.saffronkent.com/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheSaffronKent

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thesaffronkent/

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

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/saffron-a-kent

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Saffron-A.-Kent/e/B01MZCZ0LG

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16192760.Saffron_A_Kent

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

[Cover Reveal & Excerpt Reveal]:The First Lights by Christy Pastore

Release Date: September 26, 2018

Cover Design: Hart & Bailey Design Co.

Synopsis

Hannah

One minute we were a family of four—then, in the blink of an eye, half of my world was gone. Nearly two years after I received the phone call that changed my life forever, we’re living in a new town and facing new opportunities. All I want is to be a strong parent for my son and build a good life. I’m still fighting to figure out how to be okay. Falling for someone? Not in the cards for me. I had my happily ever after. Until he appears. One look from the ex-NFL player turned high school football coach brings my soul to life. But the man tests my patience with his arrogance. He knows how to manage his players and his students, but he needs a major ego adjustment. Every night when my eyes close, I tell myself there’s no way I’ll fall for Wyatt Hamilton, I can’t . . . he’s my son’s new coach. Wyatt She’s the last thing that I expected. But I’m drawn to her. When she stepped onto my field with her long sexy legs, arms covered in tiny geometric tattoos, dark hair and her perfect kissable lips—she stoked a fire inside me. I never dreamed that I’d feel that spark again. Hannah Richman understands my anguish and emotional turmoil, because she’s been through the same hell. Wanting her is taboo—forbidden. She’s the mother of one of my students. No matter how much I crave her . . . there’s no way I can have her, it would be inappropriate. We’re about to redefine that word.

Goodreads

Preorder Links

B & N: http://bit.ly/FirstLightsBN

Apple: http://bit.ly/FirstLightsiB

Kobo: http://bit.ly/FirstLightsKo

Excerpt

My heart thundered in my chest as if a herd of wild horses were stampeding through it. I pulled the pen and notepad from my apron pocket averting my gaze from the smolder in Wyatt Hamilton’s green eyes. “I see you got your coffee, now what can I get you to eat?” Smirking, he leaned back into the booth, drawing his arm across the back. “What no greeting?” This man did strange things to me. I tapped my pen to the notepad, heat rolling down my spine like lava. “Hello, Mister Hamilton. Now can I get your order, please?” His eyes darted to my nametag. “I’d like the Denver omelet with toasted sourdough and a side of Mel’s famous hash browns, Hannah.” I cleared my throat. “Oh, sorry, we don’t serve omelets after eleven.” His eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean? I thought Mel’s served omelets until four in the afternoon.” “Um, they used to, but that changed when the menu did a few months back.” “Well, tell Goldie the omelet is for me,” he said, tapping his finger to the table. “I’m sure that she’d be happy to accommodate me this morning.” This guy, I didn’t have time for his jokes. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that and tell a woman who’s been on her feet since four a.m. to prepare an omelet just for you. Now, tell me what you really want because I have a table ready to pay.” He narrowed his eyes, his dark brows pinching together. “I already told you my order. Goldie will bend the rules for me, I’m her favorite customer—a regular.” “You’re incredible,” I mumbled. What I really wanted to say was that he was arrogant. “Thank you, I see that you’ve been working your social skills.” “That wasn’t a compliment.” I leaned down so that we were face to face. “I’m sure that Goldie doesn’t make the rules so that you can break them. If you really wanted an omelet you would have been here before eleven. If you were a regular, you’d have known about the menu change and we wouldn’t be in this current predicament. You can either place a different order or you can sit here and starve.” Wyatt’s eyes flared and turned dark. Yeah, I told him and it served him right. I knew who he was, and after my son told me he was a big deal I Googled him. Wyatt Hamilton, the former NFL player, quarterback—the golden god of Indianapolis. He’d taken the team to the Super Bowl and won the town’s second title and then he left the sport. Under tragic circumstances this man prevailed. He was a champion, but right now he was acting like an entitled asshole. “Everything okay here?” Goldie asked, wiping her hands on a red towel. Wyatt’s eyes never left mine. “It’s all good. Hannah was telling me about the menu change, but she insisted I order an omelet even if she had to make it herself.” I clamped my teeth together, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the shock I felt inside painted on my face. Instead, I carefully positioned my middle finger against the back of my notepad sending him a signal. “Oh, that was so nice of you to offer, Hannah,” Goldie said, lopping her red towel through her apron string. “I think I can make that omelet happen for you, Wyatt.” After scratching down his order, I tore at my notepad and handed the paper to Goldie. The tight-lipped smile painted across his face irritated me. Wyatt Hamilton was a guy who expected everything to go his way. Smug bastard.

Giveaway

One of Five ARC's for The First Lights

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b1257f8d354/?

About the Author

Christy Pastore is a bestselling author of Romantic Comedy and Literary Humor romance reads. She writes sexy, contemporary romance books that contain bold heroines and swoony gentleman with a naughty side. Writing has always been a part of Christy’s life. Her first writing gig was for a celebrity entertainment website. Later she went on to create her own blogazine and media company combining her love of writing with fashion and marketing.

When's she not writing flirty and dirty books you’ll find Christy browsing the internet for the latest celebrity gossip, obsessively watching Instagram stories, binge watching her favorite shows or daydreaming.

She appreciates a good vodka soda with a twist of lime or a nice glass of wine. She’ll never turn down chips and salsa, margherita pizza or Mexican food. And yes, you can always ask her for advice on fashion and style trends.

Christy lives in central Indiana with her husband, their lovable English springer spaniel, Bailey, and their super cool ginger cat, Boomer.

She believes books, especially love stories are an escape from the real world.

To be the first to know of upcoming releases, please join Christy’s Newsletter (Always Spam Free).

Connect with Christy

Email the Author: info@christypastore-author.com

Newsletter Sign Up: http://bit.ly/2JhkWkE

Facebook Author Page: http://bit.ly/2kxAUcv

Goodreads Author Page: http://bit.ly/2sou2ll

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2snB8aH

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2siL3hr

Amazon Author Page: https://amzn.to/2L4HRNl

BookBub Author Page: http://bit.ly/2sfnIgS

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

[Cover Reveal]: Memories Of Us by Fabiola Francisco

Book: Memories of Us

Author: Fabiola Francisco

Genre: Contemporary Romance

A Rebel Desire Spin Off (standalone)

Add To Your TBR

#MemoriesOfUsCR

Synopsis:

The life I’m living was supposed to be ours, not just mine, and without her it means nothing.

I couldn’t climb on stage and sing to a crowd, knowing the one person my songs were meant for was miles away from me. Writing songs about her is the best I can do until she comes back because I know we’re not over. We’re just on pause, like your favorite song when you need a moment to take it in. But as soon as I find her, I’m pressing play on our love story.

Pre Order The Book

books2read.com/mou

Meet The Author:

Fabiola Francisco is a contemporary romance author from South Florida. Writing as been a part of her life since she was a teenager. Even at that age, she dreamed of happy endings with emotional twists. Her novels include Perfectly Imperfect, The Restoring Series, Sweet on You Duet, and Red Lights, Black Hearts. Her passion for books and writing has inspired her to write her own stories. She writes novels readers could relate to and grow with. She’s currently working on writing more stories that connect with readers on a deeper. Fabiola also loves expressing herself through art and spending time in nature. In her spare time, she loves to cuddle with a good book and a glass of wine.

Excerpt

“I need to start by saying that I don’t need you to free me from guilt. I don’t need some kind of permission to move on.” My head turns to the left to look at him. “The guilt I live with is put on myself for being an idiot. No apology is enough, Kenzie.” He shakes his head, keeping his gaze in front of him as well. He’s in his own world as he speaks to me.

“I live with the self-hatred day in and day out, just trying to survive. I write songs about you, about us, trying to preserve what we had. As if doing so would freeze time and I’d wake up one morning to your tapping on my bedroom window. Remember when you used to do that?” He shakes his head to clear the memory. I remember it as if it were this morning I did it. I’ve always been a morning person, so I’d go to his house and wake him up by tapping his window. Then, I’d spend hours helping him around the farm.

Hunter’s chest rises as he clears his throat. “We had so much going for us. I loved you so damn much. I still do, and whether we ever get a second chance or not, I’ll never stop. It’s impossible to.” His eyes seek mine and on cue I turn my head to meet him. I take a sharp inhale as I see the red rim around his eyes.

“I hope you understand that. I’ll never stop. It’s you or no one. I fucked up. I’m not perfect, even if you thought I was. I’ve been going crazy not knowing where you are. I tried finding you everywhere, but no one knew or wouldn’t spill your location. If you think I’ve moved on, you’re wrong. Because this,” he grips his chest, “left with you.”

“You broke my heart… in a way I never expected.”

“Trust me, I broke my own as well.”

I swallow back the tears that want to escape. I just need to wait to cry when I’m locked in my apartment.

“Maybe we were always meant to follow this destiny. We’re different people. Realistically, how many young people stay with the same person, especially through so many changes. Maybe we were never meant to last.” I shrug, focusing again on the patches of grass.

“You don’t mean that.”

I nod silently.

“Damn it, Mackenzie. Look at me. Look at me.” His body shakes next to mine. “We were always meant to beat the odds. You know it. We would talk about it for hours.”

“It’s different now. Maybe we saved ourselves from greater heartache.” I finally turn to look at him, water blurring my vision but I refuse to let the tears fall. Not yet. “It would’ve hurt more if we had started to live the life we planned and realized it was wrong.”

“Bullshit. There’s no greater heartache than this and I know you feel it, too. You don’t believe this.”

I suck in air and release it just a fast. Nodding, I stand. “I’m sorry, Hunter. I gotta get goin’.”

Thursday, April 26, 2018