Bantam | November 24, 2015 | Romantic Suspense
Everything I Left Unsaid, book 2
We played our roles, told each other lies.
But now Dylan is no longer just a mysterious deep voice on the other end of the line. We’re face-to-face and our relationship is very, very real.
We still have secrets—but so much is crystal clear:
The thrilling danger.
The raw, naked desire.
The need to keep feeling the way he makes me feel. Forever.
Dylan is putting up walls, trying to keep me safe, but he can’t shut me out. He has seen my darkness and rescued me. Now it’s my turn, if only he will let me.
The Truth About Him is intended for mature audiences.
Monday, November 30, 2015
NYLA | November 24, 2015 | New Adult Romantic Suspense
**This is the full novel for CHILD STAR**
Amelia London is America's sweetheart. Noah Sloan is America's bad boy. Both are former child stars and once were lovers. When they are cast as the leads in the upcoming erotic suspense blockbuster—Sinners Like Us—they are forced to come to terms with the issues that tore them apart to begin with.
As the whole world watches, can they keep their secrets hidden? After all, everybody is a sinner…
Whitman Books | October 15, 2015 | New Adult Romantic Suspense
SOURCE: XPRESSO BOOK TOURS
My friends say Hunter Cayman’s dangerous.
They say he's a threat to everyone in town.
I’m not so sure.
As he stands before me in this crowded club with the lights shining around us, I catch something good under Hunter’s dark facade. Something decent and profound.
I don’t know who or what to believe.
But I will find out the truth.
Aeris Thorne is expecting a restful vacation in the remote town of Deep Cove. But on a stormy night, she meets the alluring and mysterious Hunter Cayman, and her life takes an exhilarating turn.
Aeris is both drawn to him and determined to find out what he’s hiding. It’s clear Hunter has found success with the high-security lab on his vast estate. But what Aeris doesn’t know is that he’s tormented by a secret: the truth behind his research.
As he and Aeris are drawn together, the walls he’s built to protect himself threaten to crumble. At the same time, she begins to wonder if she’s found the key to unraveling her own tragic past. When Aeris’s life is threatened, Hunter is forced to make an impossible decision about her future—one that could change everything.
Merry Blissmas by Jamie Begley
Biker Bitches, book 3
To be Published: December 11, 2015
What can I say? I’m not a nice person. When I walk by, people call me a slut, and I’m okay with that. I believe in calling a spade a spade. I am a slut.
With the holidays approaching, I miss belonging to The Last Riders. Drake’s keeping me warm, but he wants more than I can give. He wants me to trust him, to believe he can protect me. Doesn’t he know Santa put me on the Naughty List long ago?
What can I say? I’m a nice guy and have always done the responsible thing.
Bliss is everything I shouldn’t want, but it’s hard to resist a woman who stopped believing in miracles. She wants to be back with The Last Riders, whom she considers her true family. Doesn’t she know it’s Christmas, and miracles do happen?
cover revealed after the jump!
Tough Luck by Christa Simpson
To be Published: January 12, 2016,
by Black Widow Publishing
Even if it means we’re wantonly destroying our family . . . I can’t resist him.
I know it’s not right to pine for this man, but those eyes are impossibly dark and his full pouting lips call to me like no other. He’s strictly forbidden from seeing me again, but he’s the one wielding all the power, controlling my body with a single, menacing look. He tells me I can be his dark, little secret and I’m honestly having a hard time saying no.
I’m Izzabelle Spade, the good-girl librarian: organized, anti-social, your average “by the book” kind of girl. Dustin Miller is off limits, with that naturally tanned skin, deep, brooding eyes and broad shoulders. Untouchable, to a girl like me—usually. But not anymore.
When I screw up, a beautiful chaos ensues. I demand a do over, but he has something else in mind. I know I should say no—absolutely not. I should turn around, walk away and never look back. But what do you think happens when he's a “get what I want, when I want” kind of guy and what he wants is me?
cover revealed after the jump!
Book Title: The Secret of Obedience
Author: Liv Rancourt
Genre: M/M romance
Release Date: November 30, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
Ronnie Durand is a country boy who transfers to the University of Washington after two years at Central. He'll have to give up playing football, though finishing his education at a major university in Seattle - and being out and proud without having to look over his shoulder - makes the sacrifice worthwhile.
But finding friends at a huge school is tough, especially when the hottest guy Ronnie meets makes him doubt his own sanity.
Sang's been on his own a long time. He's only a couple steps away from living on the street, and he's got dreams so big they don't leave space for a steady boyfriend. Then he meets Ronnie, who just might be strong enough to break through his barriers....as long as Sang lets him in on one big secret.
My bike's parked right in front of the club. "Are we going far?" I ask.
"Four or five blocks."
I hand him the helmet. "Get on."
He slides the helmet on, and I help him tighten the buckles. He chitters a laugh, making the moment silly and a little awkward. I straddle the bike, and when he climbs on behind me it turns me on so bad I almost come again. Damn. I want to be stretched out in a bed with Sang, both of us naked, with a box of condoms and a Costco-sized bottle of lube.
With nudges and hand signals, he guides me to a big brick apartment building about a quarter mile away. I park, and he springs off, leaving me with a sharp shiver at the loss of his heat. By the time I get the bike locked up, he's on the front door phone.
"I need your bed, chica."
"I'm in it." The voice is muffled, most likely female, and laughing rather than annoyed.
"Then your couch."
The phone clicks and goes to dial tone, and the door buzzes. I follow Sang through the lobby, where the dark burgundy carpet could be original to the 1940s. We jog up a couple flights of stairs and down a hall to an open apartment door.
"Go." He hustles me in, then throws the deadbolt and taps on a closed door to our right. "Thanks, baby."
An indistinct bleat answers him, likely from the location of the occupied bed. The rest of the apartment is one room with a kitchenette in the corner. It's dark except for the streetlights outside, but Sang knows where to find candles and a match. We're quiet, wordless, working with borrowed solitude. Compared with the thrash of the nightclub and the sleazy bathroom stall, I'll take it.
I dump my jacket and helmet on the dining table. Sang sets two candles on the tiny bookcase, hauls me over to the couch, and pushes me down. I'm laughing, because for a little guy, he's bossy as hell. Then he straddles me, and I want to kiss him without pissing him off. I drag him close and nuzzle his neck, tasting, testing, planting not-kisses in a hot line down his throat. He sighs, and I take it as permission to keep going.
His pants are stretch leggings, so it doesn't take much to get them worked down over his hips to free his dick. It's so elegant, tapered and smooth. I want to suck on it again, to bring him off and make him sputter in Korean or Chinese or whatever language he babbled in last time. If he wanted me to, I'd fuck him, but he'd have to ask. I'm not really much for butt sex. If a guy's into it, I'll do what he wants, but my own preference is for hands and mouths, everything slick with spit and lube. I like messy sex. And kissing. I really like kissing.
I stroke him, rubbing my thumb over the head of his dick, and he flops against me like I've disconnected his spinal cord. The room smells of smoke and roses, and he's fumbling at my zipper, those delicate hands all trembling and raw, so I reach in and help. My hand's big enough to wrap around both of us, the heat of his thrust enough to drive both of us crazy. His lace shirt is tangling in my fingers and around our shafts, so I undo the buttons and shove it off his shoulders. My black silk is already kinda trashed, but he does the same for me, exposing my chest.
Our thrusting goes from eager to urgent to needy, his heavy-lidded gaze trapping me. His climax hits like a rocket, like fireworks going off in a black July sky. I follow, but it's more of a tease, dragged out, slow and seductive until I can't breathe and I arch off the couch. Sang crawls up my chest, hanging on, laying open-mouthed kisses over my ear, down my jaw.
If I'm lucky, this night will never end.
"We need to go soon."
His whisper hits me like a slap. "I'd bring you back to my dorm," I say, "but I haven't given my roommate the homophobia quiz yet."
He raises up and smirks at me. "I don't like him already."
I run a hand over his shoulder, smoothing his ruffled feathers. My calloused fingertips catch in the lace, and I wonder how something so old fits like it was made for him.
"What are you studying in that big school, anyway?" His question is tentative, cautious.
"Exercise science or maybe business. I haven't chosen a major yet." I pause, giving him a chance to ask a follow-up question. When he doesn't I step up. "What about you? What are you studying at that big school?"
He grimaces and shakes his head. "Nothing. I'm not at your school."
"Oh, it's my school now?"
He pats my cheek. "Yes. Your school."
"I see you every day in World History."
"No one sees me.” His lower lip softens, and he catches it with the tips of his teeth. “They see the clothes.” He reaches for the lace blouse, shaking it out and tossing it over his shoulders. “They see a girl or a scenester or a queer.” He stands, shakes his junk back into his stretchy pants, does a little hootchie dance to organize things. “No one sees me. Not even my family.”
Old pain erodes his effervescence, showing through the cracks like basalt under soil. I'm stretched over the couch, on display, my shirt open and my dick hanging out of my jeans. He covers my eyes with his hand, but I knock it away.
“I think you look real good. I’d like to see a lot more of you.”
Which sounds really kind of lame and try-hard, but this is what I came to Seattle for, too. Adventure. Maybe even romance, the kind I can show off in public.
“I want to,” he says.
For a moment he shows me his profile, private, thoughtful, and I give him some space to go on.
“And if I was going to see someone,” he continues with more laughter in his tone, “he’d be a lot like you.”
“So let’s do it.”
I should probably feel bad when he doesn’t respond, but the back-to-back orgasms catch up with me. I tip my head back and close my eyes, fighting sleep. Sang’s rummaging around the apartment. Haven't a clue why he’s lying about school and why he won’t take me up on my offer, but after two evenings he's an itch I won't be able to scratch on my own, so I let it go. Country boys are known for their determination.
I can be found on-line at all hours of the day and night at my website & blog (www.liv-rancourt.blogspot.com), on Facebook (www.facebook.com/liv.rancourt), or on Twitter (www.twitter.com/LivRancourt). Come find me. We’ll have fun!
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Book Title: Pieces of Me
Author: Jacquie Underdown
Genre:New Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 8, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
For Hannah, Mercy Island is a refuge, a new beginning, and a place to find safety in her own skin. Here, in this peaceful, beachside place, she will rediscover all those pieces of herself her abusive ex stole away. For Bear, Mercy Island is a prison, a backwater, a place he can’t wait to escape. Away, in the city, he’ll chase his dreams and lose the bad memories haunting him.
When Hannah's home is damaged in an ugly storm, Bear offers his handyman services to repair it—a last job and a pretty girl to pass the time before he heads out. But Hannah is terrified to lose herself in another relationship, and Bear isn’t in it for the long haul.
However, their simmering sexual attraction refuses to be ignored, and just because love isn’t on the line doesn’t mean sex isn’t on the table. A no-strings-attached brief fling to curb the tension and take the edge off. No ties. No emotions. No pain.
But love has a way of coming in the windows, even when you’ve slammed the door, if only Hannah and Bear can stop looking to the past and find hope in their future.
The air was buzzing. His gaze questioned me. Dared me.
I kept on kneading. Silence fell between us, but our desire was so damn loud I couldn’t drown it out. I wanted him so bad, I ached. An ache only his lips against mine would satisfy.
Was I willing to throw caution to the wind and go for it? His leaving be damned. And just kiss him. Cross that item right off the list.
He handed me a dish and I popped the dough inside to leave it to sit for half an hour. He did the same. I covered it with cling film and washed my hands. All distractions from the need unfurling in my body like a flower in bloom.
I met his gorgeous green eyes and grinned sheepishly.
He held my gaze, not looking away, not letting me look away either. How could he do that, lasso me with his stare? He’d done it from the first moment I saw him through the windscreen of his car.
He took a step closer, slowly, as though testing the water. I didn’t back away. Hell, I was so damn ready for this, I felt like grabbing his shirt and yanking him towards me. Another step until he was standing close, his body-heat mingling with my own. Face nearer, his lips met mine, a soft quick touch. A short second of space, then he pressed his lips to mine again, firmer, and lingered this time as we breathed each other in.
I backed away, far enough to peer up at that gorgeous face, into those eyes. Our lips met once more, firmer now. He opened my mouth and his tongue found mine, warm and silky. My stomach tugged and tensed with the sensation. I tilted my head so his mouth slanted over mine as I sought more from him. The quietest mewls sounded in my throat, yet it had the power to explode my yearning like a flame to dynamite. I deepened the kiss, tasting, wanting.
I didn’t want to, I really, really didn’t want to, but I dragged myself away from that mouth and body. I couldn’t look at him for a moment, couldn’t trust myself, and yet couldn’t make distance between us. I wanted to scream. And I wanted him so bad, hard, dirty and endlessly, just like in my dream.
My chest was heaving. I traced my finger over my lips; I could still feel him there and I ached for more. We stared at each other, trying to ignore the crackle in the air, the magnetic pull, the deep crushing desire.
He leant closer. I wasn’t going to stop him. Couldn’t. His hands crawled under my shirt, touched the skin of my stomach. Oh that feels so good. My muscles quivered. I sighed as he gripped my waist and pulled me to him. Chest to chest.
And we were kissing again with fervent lips, breath and tongue. I couldn’t not kiss him. And editor or not, I didn’t give a rats about that double negative. My hands were on his waist, back, arse, and I was pulling him harder to me.
‘Do you know how good you taste?’ he whispered as he nibbled and sucked at my lips.
That tongue and the sweet salty scent of his hair and skin. I wanted more. Needed more. And he gave it, long warm licks against my tongue until I couldmelt to the floor.
I managed to drag myself away and look up at him.
He smiled so warmly, his eyes bright and cheerful. ‘Hannah,’ he said in his deep, delicious voice.
I grinned and blushed until I had to look away. ‘We better get these pizzas cooking.’
He laughed. ‘Yes.’
Jacquie has a business degree, has studied post-graduate Writing, Editing and Publishing at The University of Queensland, and is currently finishing her research dissertation as a student of the Master of Letters program at Central Queensland University. She is an author of a number of digitally published novels, novellas and short stories that are emotionally driven and possess unique themes beyond the constraints of the physical universe.