Tuesday, May 3, 2016


Title: Dex

Series: Kinky Shine #1

Author: Stephanie Witter

Genre: Rockstar Romance/Contemporary

Release Date: May 3, 2016


She succeeded in making him feel like a man. A normal functioning man when he hadn’t felt that way in years.

"Who're you f*cking?"

When my father, manager of the worldwide phenomenon Kinky Shine, asked me to come and help the band members appear more approachable I never thought my first meeting with Dex Bowers would start with such a question. 

Immediately, I wanted to strangle him, wipe the smirk off his face and force him to mutter more than three words. 

But there's something mysterious about him that was electrifying and the more he pushed me away and angered me, the more I wanted to know him and push through his hangups.

"Trust. That f*cking trust thing didn't come easily to me."

In the five years since my band became famous, not once had I been photographed with a woman. I knew it fed the supposed mystery surrounding me, but the real truth was far more humiliating than I was comfortable with. 

That was until Harley Floyd walked in and I was left with a mind numbing lust for her that scared me shitless. It should be easy to let go and trust her just enough to have fun, to be happy I could finally come up with new material for our next album. But nothing was easy and with a life made of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll I wasn't sure if anything could last. Not even my band.

"What twenty-five year old was f*cking lost when his cock was rock hard when close to a gorgeous woman?  One answer to that; a man who hadn’t had sex in a really long time."



“Harley…’’ There was a fucking warning in her name, but she didn’t budge, didn’t bat an eye. But she did stop breathing for a second and her green eyes darkened again. My whole body shivered at her reaction. I inhaled and I didn’t smell the traffic exhaustion or other smells associated with LA. No, what I smelt was her vanilla perfume. 

I pressed harder in the wall, the concrete biting into my back. I clenched my fists and kept my eyes locked with hers. I traced my lower lip with my tongue and her eyes went down to my mouth. My heart tripled in beat and a low growl escaped me. It couldn’t be heard with the bustling noise of the city, but it shocked me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had such a reaction. 

When I thought she’d take a step toward me, she took one backward and away from me. Her eyes widened and she blushed. “I guess this time I should be the one leaving,’’ she said in a small voice, her words stumbling into each other's .

“No.’’ What the fuck was I saying?

“What? I mean,’’ she shook her head. “I’m leaving.’’

I grabbed her shoulders and crowded her space before I realized what I was doing. Her scent enveloped me, enticed me. The thin material of her top was soft under my fingers, almost like nothing was separating me from her body. If I took a half step toward her I would feel her perfect breasts against my chest. I clenched my jaw and tried to calm my labored breathing. After a few seconds without moving she tilted her head upward to look at me and I was fucked. I thought I had been before that, but now, now I was lost to the sensations she was awakening in me, sensations I thought were gone. 

Her lips, lush and parted called out to me. Her cheeks coloring more and more into a deeper red had me ready to damn myself for this show of innocence. Her eyes, bright and yet getting glassier showed nothing akin to innocence and that made me ready to come in my fucking pants. She was a contradiction and I would have never thought it’d be so tantalizing. 

“What are you doing?’’ she whispered and her breath brushed my neck. I closed my eyes, my lips parted on a low moan. Fuck. What was she doing to me?

“Push me away. Now.’’

I kept my eyes closed to better feel the brush of her breathing on my skin. My cock was pushing against my zipper and it was fucking painful. I wanted to squeeze myself and jerk off to find a release, but I couldn’t. We were on a street in broad daylight.

I waited and waited and nothing happened. She kept on breathing irregularly and didn’t push me away. 

So I did the only thing I could; I opened my eyes.


Stephanie Witter is a dreamer. She started learning English at three, and fell in love with the language. Always with a book or two close by, she can't spend a day without reading (or writing).


There is a giveaway for a $10 Amazon gift card and 2 ecopies of Dex

Title: Just Say Maybe
Series: Thistle Bend #2
Author: Tracy March
Publisher: Loveswept
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 3, 2016


Award-winning author Tracy March follows up Should’ve Said No (“Wonderfully quirky . . . a pleasure to read!”—Laura Drewry) with this enchanting novel set in Thistle Bend, Colorado, a magical place where old wrongs are righted, and adventure leads to true love.

Real estate lawyer Holly Birdsong’s hike in the Rockies takes an unexpected turn when a smokin’-hot stranger tumbles off his bike and into her path. Turns out he’s purchasing the abandoned Lodge at Wild Rose Ridge, and Holly agrees to take him on as a client—despite her family’s traumatic history with the previous owner, who shamelessly abused the town’s goodwill at every turn. But when their professional relationship turns personal, Holly must reconcile the past with her hopes for the future.

Adding the rustic lodge to his portfolio of adventure properties isn’t just a business decision for Bryce Bennett. The rugged mountains also offer a killer setting for his extreme-sports camps for at-risk teens. What’s not in the blueprints is finding a kindred spirit in his irresistible lawyer, even if she seems apprehensive about getting involved in the deal. Bryce’s plan to ease her mind just might work, as long as no one discovers his secret. Yet he can’t stand hiding the truth from the woman who makes him want to build something permanent: a happily ever after.

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Author Bio

Award-winning author Tracy March writes contemporary romances inspired by her real-life happily ever after. Always up for travel and adventure, she has flown in a stunt plane, snowmobiled on the Continental Divide, ziplined in the Swiss Alps, and been chased by a bull in the mountains of St. Lucia. She loves Nationals baseball, Saturday date nights, and Dairy Queen Blizzards—and rarely goes a day without craving pizza. Tracy lives in Yorktown, Virginia, with her superhero husband who works for NASA.

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Title: Your Mess Is Mine
Author: Stephanie Alba
Release Date: May 31, 2016
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I don't trust people who follow their hearts. Hearts are peculiar things. They're necessary muscles that keep us alive by pumping blood and oxygen into our veins. Hearts are also compulsory, often making us foolish. They pull us towards others with a force that aches, burns, and satiates you all at once. Before you know it that mass of tissue is no longer yours.
Maybe mine never was.
In my case, that draw came from a stranger that left my heart feeling both fulfilled and consumed.
I didn't expect to fight her for the last standby seat to New York City. I didn't plan on letting her get under my skin. Or the way her vulnerability tore me up inside and compelled me to care for her. She didn't plan on letting me witness her chaos.
Her anxious heart and my perfectionist mind let things get messy.
And though we didn't plan for it, our interrupting of each others' lives was exactly what we needed.
Sometimes the mess is the most beautiful part of life.
Chapter 1
The airport felt like a claustrophobic beehive. People swarmed and whizzed past me, completely disregarding my personal space. As if travel didn't already suck, as if the process of taking off shoes and going through X-ray machines where some dude sees the outline of your dick wasn't miserable enough. The experience might've been better with a gorgeous woman to impress, but of course, I always got stuck with bearded, hefty men.
Truthfully, I didn't hate traveling. Not by a long shot. Traveling can change your view of the world. For some people, it can make it seem a lot bigger, filled with cultures and places you can only imagine. For others, it cinches the circumference of the Earth like a belt tightens around your waist. I loved the idea of discovering the world. Unfortunately, my late twenties consisted of traveling for work at a constant rate, which left little time for me to plan vacations I'd hoped for as a college student. But I guess I was lucky to be where I was when I was. Though I never believed in being in the right place at the right time, I learned the truth behind that notion that October evening.
Gate C3 in San Francisco International Airport was booming. Sitting there, I had no idea that I'd be traveling nonstop for the next five months, or that my life was going to radically change. My planet was suddenly going to feel connected and small, yet devastatingly large. Most importantly, I had no clue that the change was going to come with a pair of gray combat boots.
My flight to New York City was overbooked, but the accounting firm I worked for liked saving money, which provided me the torture of waiting on standby. Luckily, I usually had the good fortune to get on the plane despite being on a waiting list. And things were definitely looking up. The sexy, red-headed attendant winked when she said I was first up if someone didn't show.
Seeing as my flight didn't leave for another hour, I decided some caffeine would help me work during the flight. I'd be meeting with Daniel Ellis the following morning, a client who had been our big catch for years now. This was my chance to prove myself as a CPA in hopes of making partner at the company. I'd clawed my way up from the bottom, from taking care of tedious residential taxes to kissing every client's ass. Coffee was absolutely necessary to ensure I didn't fuck things up.  
Walking to the food court, I considered how airports never really close and how difficult it must be to keep them clean. They sometimes feel like an awful combination of restrooms and jail cells. People come in and out, bringing their germs along with them, leaving that trail of bacteria for the next lot to pick up. It's filthy if you really think about it. And then you get stuck there with a bunch of bitchy people trapped in a large holding room till you get shut into a metal tube towards your next destination.
Dunkin Donuts was my solution to being stuck there. Of course, the line was never-fucking-ending. If I didn't desperately need the caffeine, I would have turned my ass back towards the gate. As I browsed through e-mails on my phone, I overheard different tenors and tones ordering their fix: nonfat cappuccino, coffee–black, iced mocha latte, etc. Each one brought me closer to the counter. Finally, with only one person ahead of me, I looked up.
Petite, toned legs stood before me in skintight black leggings that led to scuffed combat boots. Impulsively, my eyes trailed up the rest of her body, noticing her luscious ass contrasting her thin waist. She had squared yet feminine shoulders—a dancer's body, and a perfect one at that. My blood heated as I started imagining what I'd do to a body like that. She wouldn't know what hit her. But then she spoke, and that dark-haired beauty let out words in a deep, sensual voice. It sounded like pure seduction and sweetness tangled together. I suddenly needed to match a face to that sound. Desperate wasn't something I did, but with her it began with just the sound of her words.
"Hi, an espresso, please," she said, putting her weight on one foot while eyeing the donuts. "Oh," she hummed, and the tight moan sent a jolt of blood to my groin, causing me to readjust myself. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'd reacted as such to plenty of women, but not because of their voice, and certainly not while they stared at sweets. But she was a curious little thing. "And an old fashioned donut too."
Moving closer, I tried catching a glimpse of her features, but it was no use. The only way I'd see her was if I was willing to risk looking like a creep, and I was already getting stranger-danger glances from the guy next to me. He was probably trying to do the same. Judgmental asshole. I waited, the two minutes dragging as she paid. Finally, she moved for me to order and I was able to take in her profile.
Fuck me.
I unavoidably understood the word stunned, because this girl was stunning. My body became stiff, each of my functions inept. All I could do was look.
Her fair skin contradicted her dark, almost black mane. Her lips were plump, yet delicate, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top. The pervert in me instantly imagined what they'd feel like all over my skin, specifically where I was currently throbbing. She must have felt me watching, because she turned to look right at me and caught my blatant staring. That delectable mouth offered me an acknowledging smile. I didn't pay it much attention. Correction: I couldn't pay it much attention. All I could focus on were her hypnotic, amber-colored eyes. They burned through my skin the way whiskey burns your throat on the way down, but warms your chest. It hurt. It seared my gaze to hers. That stare left me dizzy.
My lips parted, and I nervously shifted my weight. My clumsy movement left me bumping into the man beside me. His scalding coffee poured down my back and into my ass crack. I'd like to say I played it cool, but there was nothing cool about the burning skin that forced me to emit a pathetic screech.
Yes, a screech. You know, the same sound girls make when they see spiders. Now, mix that in with the forward hip thrust I did to avoid more coffee on my ass, and well, I was just the quintessence of masculinity. Fucking Thor right there.
When you get embarrassed, your first reaction is not to check if you're okay. No, it's to see how many spectators witnessed you making a complete idiot of yourself. The guy behind me apologized profusely, while the people in line behind me all stared—some wincing, others trying to suppress laughter.
It was incredibly awkward. No big deal. It's not like anyone of value saw it… Except her.
My eyes darted to find her staring, and that's when I felt another kind of burning all over my face. Like some neurotic asshole, I turned and strutted to the bathroom. I could've pretended it never happened, but the way she'd looked at me before my mortifying moves had left me exposed. She'd studied me with what appeared to be equal interest in my body. I wanted that look again, wanted to take in the way she perused my height, my face, and softly hummed to herself in what seemed like an approving assessment. It had turned me on. But I couldn't fucking go back, not after that debacle.
I wanted more, but I didn't even know where to begin. Ironically enough, I wouldn't have to go far.
Stephanie Alba lives in Miami, Florida with her husband, her toddler and their two dogs, Milo and Van Gogh. She's obsessed with Disney, British history, traveling, romances novels, movies, and Halloween. When she's not glued to her laptop or writing in her notebook, she's either: running, planning her next vacation, binge-watching Netflix, reading, or chasing her toddler. 
Title: Russian Roulette
Series: Russkaya Mafiya
Author: Sapphire Knight
Release Date: May 3, 2016
I have a secret.
I need a savior; someone who can help me be free.
I never expected to meet the strong, stubborn Russian- Tate Masterson.
After my past, I should avoid him, not crave him.
I’m the dirty side of Mafiya. One thing about being the leader of the Bratva, I always get what I want, her included. I’m corrupted; don’t expect me to play fair.
Unwanted Sacrifices-
I never imagined I’d be grateful to be traded to the Bratva. To be awarded a new beginning, once I’m given to Nikoli. I’m already in love with him, but can he look past our friendship and return my love?
Corrupted Counterparts-
One hot encounter with a feisty Italian, leaves this quiet Russian panting for more.
“Ready beautiful?” Chek inquires like I’m privy to have some sort of choice about it and my skin crawls.
If I never hear that pet name again, it would still be too soon. How can I possibly be beautiful after being trapped here and living like this? No, not living; at this point I’m simply existing.
He cuts away what’s left of the back of my thin, cami undershirt and washes an area on my back with a rough dish pad and then pats it dry. I have no idea what he plans to do; it could be a tattoo or he could be stealing my organs. Nothing would really surprise me anymore. I just know that one will hurt remarkably more than the other.
“Yes, Mr. Chek,” I respond automatically and feel the tip of something sharp on my back.
“You’re getting your mark Sabrina. It means that if you stay on track, once it heals you get to see Kolya. He will be very pleased with how tame you’ve become.”
“Thank you.” I gasp out as the sharp blade digs further into my flesh. The ripping sensation of skin and meat making me hold my breath to keep myself from retching what little is left in my stomach.
The tears come and I suck on my bottom lip until it hurts to keep myself from crying out. His deathly grip on my side keeps me from twitching away. Although as much as it hurts, I know he could drive that blade into my back at any time and it keeps me still.
“Ah, the mark of belonging to a Minski.” He sounds almost as if he’s in a lustful trance as the blood drips down my naked back. I feel something wet wipe one of the long drops off, and I’m trying hard not to believe it was just his tongue.
A tiny whimper escapes as the blade goes in a little too deep, my nose clogs and I wonder if this may be it. If I’ll somehow suffocate myself.
I’ll never belong to a Minski.
Sapphire Knight is the International Bestselling Author of Secrets, Exposed, Relinquish, Corrupted, Forsaken Control, Unwanted Sacrifices,Friction and Unexpected Forfeit. The series are called Russkaya Mafiya, Oath Keepers MC, Ground and Pound and Dirty Down South.
Her books all reflect on what she loves to read herself.
Sapphire is a Texas girl who is crazy about football. She has always had a knack for writing, whether it is poems or stories. She originally studied psychology and that has only added to her passion for writing. She has two boys and has been married for ten years. When she's not busy in her writing cave, she's busy playing with her three Doberman Pinschers. She loves to donate to help animals and watching a good action movie.

You don't want to miss the conclusion to

 Katie and Will's story.

Never Let You Go by Monica Murphy is NOW LIVE!

Amazon UK (paperback): http://amzn.to/1SGrkvp

Google Play: http://bit.ly/1qeztQN
The second novel in this darkly sexy contemporary series from bestselling author Monica Murphy wraps up an emotionally powerful two-part tale of forbidden love.
The truth hurts, they say—and my pain cuts deep. While I was falling for Ethan, he was deceiving me the entire time. He held a huge secret, protected by his lies. When I discovered what he was hiding, the truth shook my world, threatening to ruin us forever. Ruin me. But I soon realized that what we share can’t be destroyed.

The connection between us is too strong. It always has been. I can’t deny him any longer. And I can’t deny my truth: I’m in love with Ethan.

I don’t want to let him go.

While we’re trying our best to make this relationship work, other forces are fighting against us. My family, who wants to keep me safe. The media obsessed with my tragic past. The public that feeds off of it. Even Ethan’s father—the man who nearly destroyed me all those years ago. He’s doing his best to finish the job.

Despite my love for Ethan, the doubts creep in, clouding my mind. Is he worth the pain? Will our love survive, or will we have no choice but to end it—end us—once and for all?


“Maybe I care,” she retorts. “Think about what this will do to us.”

“What could it do? Force us to admit that yes, we’re in a relationship now? What’s wrong with that?”

“This so-called relationship only happened because you sought me out and then lied to me!” Her voice is shrill, her eyes wild, and she visibly shakes. She’s angry.

At me.

“I never meant—” I clamp my lips shut when I see her hostile expression. She looks ready to pounce. Christ, maybe she’s right. Maybe we shouldn’t have met today. Our hurt feelings are still too close to the surface, too raw and painful.

“Do you really think meeting me today was a mistake?” I need to know her answer, though I might not like it.

Katie watches me, pressing her lips together. I wait for her response, air lodged in my throat, my heart tripping over itself in my chest. I feel like it’s all come down to this. “This won’t work,” she whispers.

“What won’t?”

“Us. The two of us . . . together. We need to accept it.” Her face almost crumples but she somehow keeps it together, all while she slaughters my heart with her words. “We shouldn’t be seen together in public. If anyone recognizes us, it will become this—thing, and soon the media will be talking. About us and our sick relationship. And I don’t want that. I don’t think you do either.”

My spine stiffens involuntarily and I slowly back away from her, holding my hands up in front of me in pure defensive mode. As if my position can ward o the blow only her words can deliver.

I thought my father knew how to pack a punch, saying just the right thing to make me internally bleed. A few choice words from Katie Watts and I feel like I’m near death.

“You want me gone? I’m gone,” I tell her, but I don’t budge. I’m hoping she’ll stop me. Despite the pain she’s causing, I don’t want to walk away from her. Even though it feels like my heart is about to crack into a million tiny pieces. I swear she already broke my heart when she first found out who I really was and ran, exiting my life like she was never in it.

Now she doesn’t want to be seen with me in public. Doesn’t want Lisa to know. The rational side of my brain understands why she might feel that way. But the irrational side, the emotional side, is screaming in agony over her rejection, demanding that I hurt her back.

My vengeful side makes me think of my father.

I rub a hand across my chest to ease the radiating ache, but it doesn’t help. The way Katie watches me isn’t helping either.

“It’s for the best,” she whispers. “The minute she spots us, she’ll tell . . . everyone. And then we’re in trouble. They’ll twist our relationship into this weird, sick thing, and I can’t. I can’t bear it, Ethan. I’ve already suffered through too much and so have you. This—we’re not worth it.”

My mouth drops open. We’re not worth it? She’s the only person in my life who’s worth anything.

“I’m—I’m sorry.” The choked words leave her and I can’t say anything in return.

She turns and leaves, her steps hurried, her at black shoes slapping against the pavement as she scurries away. I watch her go, don’t stop her, don’t say her name. I don’t do a damn thing, as if I’m paralyzed, and I wonder for one crazy moment if I might be.

But I’m not. I’m just struck numb by her words, by her worry. She’s right. I know she’s right. The media will turn our relationship into a train wreck, and with good reason.

We are a train wreck. We shouldn’t have happened, but we did. No one else knows what it’s like to be me. No one under-stands what we went through together except her and me. But she has walked away from me yet again. Practically ran, and I did nothing about it.

Breathing deep, I tell myself to stay strong. Either this will work or it won’t—but I want it to. I’m desperate to keep that connection between us.

Yet I need to understand and respect her feelings. Forgive her for walking away from me so easily. It’s damn hard. That tiny, vulnerable part buried deep within me, that little boy who never felt wanted, the one who spent his entire life moving through it essentially alone . . .

He is devastated.

Never Tear Us Apart

Book One

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About the Author

New York Times, USA Today and international bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children. She’s a workaholic who loves her job. When she’s not busy writing, she also loves to read and travel with her family. She writes new adult and contemporary romance and is published with Bantam and Avon. She also writes romance as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.

Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of her books and inquiries regarding foreign translation should be directed to her agent Kimberly Whalen.

Stalk Her:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest


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