Tuesday, August 2, 2016

DtSreleasedayToday we are celebrating the release of DARE TO STAY by Jen McLaughlin. This is the 2nd book in the Sons of Steel Row series. Check out the fantastic excerpt below, and grab your copy now! Visit more sites participating in the release day launch to read more of chapter 1!


DARE TO STAY by Jen McLaughlin

Sons of Steel Row, book #2


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Fans of Katie Ashley, Joanna Wylde, Kristen Ashley, Sophie Jackson and Katee Robert will be thrilled by this dark, steamy series, from the New York Times bestselling author of the Out of Line novels, where one gang of criminals knows just how being bad can be so good... Bruised and bloodied on Boston's mean streets, Chris O'Brien is reeling from the loss of his childhood best friend. But after barely escaping a hit placed on his head, Chris is desperate to live. A safe haven comes to mind - the home of the perfect girl from his childhood, Molly Lachlan. Before he has fully considered what it would mean to involve her in his mess, he finds himself on her doorstep. When Molly agrees to let Chris inside her home, she realizes she's also letting him into her life. Danger and desperation are coming off him like steam, and yet she can't bring herself to turn him away. His bad boy charm always had a hold on her, but now there's a soulfulness and sorrow in him that she's never seen before. And despite the heart-stopping risk of helping him, she hopes against all reason that he'll stay... The stakes are dangerously high...and the passion is seriously intense. Follow the exploits of the Sons of Steel Row in Dare To Run and Dare To Stay. dareToStay_quoteShares2  

Praise for the novels of Jen McLaughlin

“Addicting from start to finish!”New York Times bestselling author Addison Moore “With hot, sexy chemistry and heroes to die for, Jen McLaughlin’s books always deliver!”New York Times bestselling author Laura Kaye “Jen McLaughlin’s books are sexy and satisfying reads!”New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Probst



One of the roustabouts tossed me a narrow-eyed look, trying to get a read on me, no doubt, and I stared right back at the little shit. I might be keeping my guard up, but that didn’t mean I was sitting here wallowing away in fear of my impending death. People lived. Then they died. That was life. And as the overseer of this godforsaken shipment, it was my duty to keep things running smoothly. We had imports and exports to manage, inventory to distribute, and cash to launder. Shit needed to get done, and it needed to get done right now. A crate hit the ground, causing a huge boom loud enough to awaken a deaf man. I growled and stepped forward, my fists tight at my sides. Striding forward, I moved right up to the two men who’d made the racket. One was a new recruit who’d joined when I’d been locked up, and the other was a potential member. “Can you maybe manage to unload our merchandise without, oh, I don’t know, waking the entire police precinct? I rescheduled this for a reason.” The potential, who’d dropped it, flushed and lowered his head. “Sorry, Mr. Donahue.” “Hey, it’s not my fault he’s an idiot,” the worker bee said. I didn’t know him, but I knew for a fact he’d been born and raised in the same shit hole we’d all come from in Boston—a neighborhood near Southie that had been coined Steel Row. Probably in his twenties, he was the same redhead who’d been eyeballing me earlier. His glare filled with an unspoken challenge, he wore a baggy shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and a bad attitude. He had muscles that rivaled a line- backer’s, but that didn’t matter. I welcomed the confrontation. The challenge. That’s what I used to like about this job. It kept me on my toes. But everything was too damn easy now. It bored the hell out of me. I cocked my head and crossed my arms. “Is that so?” “Maybe you guys should get rid of weak links every once in a while and this kinda shit doesn’t happen. What was Scotty thinking, sending you here to run things you know nothing about? Exactly how long were you in for, anyway?” I closed the gap between us and stared the man down. He wanted to challenge the bear? Then he’d get the bear. “Loyalty is rewarded, you little shit. I did my time, and I kept my mouth shut. If the ATF came swooping in here right now, could you do the same?” The man didn’t speak. “Answer me.” Without another word, I unholstered my Sig P229 and pressed it dead center to his forehead. My voice was calm and deep and I made sure to speak slowly. “Because the way I see it, there’s only one other option in this world.” Staring him down like the rat he was, I tightened my grip on the trigger enough to make him sweat. “So. You tell me. What’s it gonna be?” The man swallowed hard but didn’t back down. I almost admired that, but he was too much of a dipshit to appreciate the value of his courage. Instead of answering my question properly so his brains didn’t end up on the dirty docks, he asked, “You gonna pull the trigger?” My finger twitched even more. For a second, I wanted to do it just to shut the idiot up. A little peace and quiet would do a hell of a lot for the headache building behind my eyes. But even though I was in charge here tonight, this was my brother’s crew. It wasn’t my job to decide if I needed to rid us of yet another fuckwit. That choice would be up to Scotty. But still . . . The point had to be made that nobody should mess with me and that I wouldn’t tolerate insubordination from an underling. All around us, the men watched, waiting to see what I would do after that blatant display of disrespect. I’d been challenged, and it was time to show the rest of them why they shouldn’t do the same. Forcing an easy grin, I shrugged and slid the gun back into my holster. “No, I’m not going to shoot you. That would bring the boys in blue on our heads, and I don’t want to be behind bars again. Not yet, anyway.” “Yeah.” The man looked at his buddies, grinned, then tugged on his shirt like he was some thug that had flirted with the devil and lived to tell of it, before turning back to me. “That’s what I thought, man.” “Sir,” I said from between clenched teeth, still grinning. “What?” The man laughed. “What did you call me?” “I said”—I rolled my sleeves up, slow but sure—“you should be calling me sir. I am in charge of this run, and as such, I own your pathetic little soul tonight.” The man paled, watching my movements with wide eyes. When I took a menacing step toward him, he stumbled back one step before he forced his feet to stand still. “Y-You’re not my boss. I work for your brother.” “My brother runs this little crew, yes. While I—?” I grabbed the front of the little fucker’s shirt and hauled him close, nose to nose with the twat. “I’m higher up the food chain, because I’ve worked my way there by following the rules. That puts me in charge of everyone on this dock. Did no one teach you about hierarchy? About showing respect to those who can get your death written off as an acceptable loss?” The man gripped my forearms, shaking his head. “I get it, man. I get it.” “I told you to call me sir.” I shook the man. “What’s your name, dipshit?” The man let out a scared little whimper. So much for that budding respect for the man’s balls. They’d shriveled up into the size of raisins at the slightest sign of danger. “D-Doug. Doug Pearson. Look, I’m—” “Shut the hell up.” I shoved Doug backward, sick of hearing his voice already. “When you speak, it hurts my head.” Doug stepped back. “I’m—” “Jesus Christ, you don’t get it, do you? Let me show you how to listen to your superior’s orders in this crew.” Hauling back my fist, I punched him in the nose, grinning as the sound of his septum cracking into pieces filled the silent night. Still, that wasn’t enough. Man, I’d missed the feeling of things cracking under my fists. When Doug hit the ground, his hand pressed to his bloody nose, I grabbed his shirt, forced him to his feet, and punched him in the gut. As Doug doubled over, wheezing for breath, I leaned on the injured man’s back as if he was a piece of furniture. To me, he was. He was here to do a job, and that was it. When he stopped being useful, I’d toss him in the garbage with the rest of the shit that was no longer of any use to me. “You stand the hell up when I’m teaching you a lesson, and you shut up, too. And next time, you damn well better call me sir.”  



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Jen 1 small Jen McLaughlin is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of sexy books with Penguin Random House. Under her pen name, Diane Alberts, she is also a USA TODAY bestselling author of Contemporary Romance with Entangled Publishing. Her first release as Jen McLaughlin, Out of Line, hit the New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal lists. She was mentioned in Forbes alongside E. L. James as one of the breakout independent authors to dominate the bestselling lists. She is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency. Though she lives in the mountains, she really wishes she was surrounded by a hot, sunny beach with crystal-clear water. She lives in Northeast Pennsylvania with her four kids, a husband, a schnauzer mutt, and four cats. Her goal is to write so many well-crafted romance books that even a non-romance reader will know her name.

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Title: Molly Part Two
Series: Angel #1
Author: Tracy Lorraine
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 Release Date: August 2, 2016


After months of fighting their feelings for each other Molly and Ryan have at last decided to make a go of it but will the actions of the guy Molly has been seeing ruin that before it has really started?

As Molly chases after Ryan will she be able to convince him that she is fed up of fighting the connection between and that she is truly ready to start a serious relationship with him despite all her insecurities that keep rearing their ugly heads?

Can Ryan prove to Molly that despite the past she is the only one for him even when his mother starts interfering and tries to break them apart by using Molly’s biggest fears against her?

As a couple will they be able to deal with the unexpected events life throws at them and come out the other side stronger than ever?

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“Oh my god, we have a hot tub!”

I feel him walk up behind me before he engulfs me in his arms. “Yes we do. Fancy trying it out?”

“Hell yes!” I say moving towards the door so we can go and check it out. Ryan lets me go and follows. He removes the lid and turns the underwater lights on.

“You go and get ready while I tidy up the kitchen and pour us some bubbly that we didn’t get to earlier.”

“Okay,” I say rushing off to the bedroom to find a bikini, I don’t remember seeing one when I unpacked but Ryan seems to have thought of everything so it will be here somewhere.

After five minutes of hunting through our cases I give up. “Ryan,” I shout. Moments later he’s in the doorway.

“What’s up gorgeous?”

“I can’t find a bikini, did you pack one?”

“Oh damn, I must have forgot,” he says with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Whoops!”

I place my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Whoops?” I question.

“Guess we’ll just have to go in naked,” he shrugs trying to play it cool.

“Yeah, I guess we will,” I say as I pull my top over my head. When I look back at him I can see his eyes have darkened significantly as he takes in my topless state. I quickly remove my trousers and knickers before grabbing a robe that is hanging in our wardrobe and draping it over my arm. “Are you just going to stand there staring, Ry, or are you going to join me?” I question as I walk past him and out to the decking making sure my hips swing seductively as I go.

When I get to the hot tub I see that he has already put the bottle of champagne on the side in a cooler and two glasses along with a couple of cans of beer for him. I just get settled in one of the moulded seats when Ryan appears in the doorway of the bedroom completely naked. He just stands there and stares at me with a smirk on his face. I can’t help myself, I move over to the edge of the hot tub, rest my chin on my hands on the side and appreciate the work of art in front of me. I slowly take him in head to toe, and back up again! His hair is a total mess from where I was running my hands through it earlier. I move my eyes over his broad shoulders, down his sculpted torso towards his slim waist. My mouth waters at sight of his very obvious excitement before I make my way down his strong thighs and to his feet. I make my way back in at the same speed feeling my heart rate increase and my clit start to throb as I take in every inch of him and commit it to memory. When I make it back up to his eyes I see they are dark with lust and he is biting his bottom lip.

“Finished?” he asks.

“Never! But I think I need to use my hands to ensure what I’m seeing is real.” He quirks an eyebrow at me and slowly starts making his way in my direction. The closer he gets the faster my heart beats.

Author Bio

Tracy Lorraine is fast approaching thirty and lives in a cute Cotswold village in England with her husband and slightly crazy dog. Having always been a bookaholic with her head stuck in her Kindle Tracy decided to try her hand at a story idea she had dreamt up. Molly has been in production for a while now but at last Tracy feels she is ready to be set free.

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Today we are sharing some teasers from UN-SHATTERING LUCY by Terri Anne Browning. This is a contemporary novella and the fourth book in the Lucy & Harris series! Check out the pre-order links below, and links for the previous books in the series.


UN-SHATTERING LUCY by Terri Anne Browning Lucy & Harris, #4

Coming August 23!


Pre-order now!

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The conclusion to USA Today Terri Anne Browning’s The Lucy & Harris Novella Series.


That was how Lucy Thornton felt in the aftermath of her breakup with Harris Cutter. Her family thought the best thing for her to do was to put the length of the country between her and Harris.

Reluctantly, she went.

The second Harris sets eyes on Lucy again, he knows she hasn’t moved on any more than he has. Realizing that he screwed up, he sets out to prove that they belong together. But the road to un-shattering Lucy is longer and darker than he ever could have imagined.



Defying Her Mafioso (October 4, 2017)

Tainted Kiss

Drake & Lana Novella (TBT)

Angel’s Halo Book 5 (Raider)





Previous Books in the Series


Catching Lucy (Lucy & Harris, #1)

Available Now FREE on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK



Craving Lucy (Lucy & Harris #2)

Available Now FREE on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK


Rocking Kin (Lucy & Harris, #3)

Available Now





babit 093   Terri Anne Browning is the USA TODAY bestselling author of The Rocker...Series. She started writing her own novellas at the age of sixteen, forcing her sister to be her one woman fan club. Now she has a few more readers and a lot more passion for writing. Being dyslexic, she never thought a career in writing would be possible, yet she has been on best selling lists multiple times since 2013. Reese: A Safe Haven Novella was her first Indie published book. The Rocker Who Holds Me changed the tables and kicked off The Rocker... series featuring the sinfully delicious members of Demon's Wings. The Rocker... Series has since expanded to OtherWorld with Axton Cage and his band members. Other books by Terri Anne include the Angel's Halo MC Series as well as The Lucy & Harris Novella Series. Terri Anne lives in Virginia with her husband, their three demons---err, children--and a loveable Olde English Bulldog named Link.  


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  InkSlinger Blogger Final

Title: The Big O
Author: Nelle L'Amour
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
 Release Date: August 4, 2016


From New York Times Bestselling author Nelle L'Amour, a new sizzling STANDALONE that's guaranteed to make your panties melt!

The first time Owen King sets eyes on her, she's in a focus group, biting into a cream-filled donut and having the most orgasmic reaction he’s ever seen. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cries out. He’s instantly obsessed.

Aspiring actress, Olive Cumming, has just lost her waitressing job and can’t pay her rent. But when the CEO of Donut King steps out from behind the one-way mirror and hires the curvy respondent to be his assistant, things are about to change. Big time.

Love at first sight has never been a reality for jaded, overworked Owen. And for sweet overweight Olive, love has never been within her reach. But when fate steps in, the king finds his unexpected princess, not knowing that someone is waiting in the shadows to keep them apart.

WARNING: Be prepared for over-the-top insta-love, a bit of kinky fun, and some yummy food play. This sugar-coated full-length novel is just waiting for you to take a bite.

Chapter 1

The Big O
©Nelle L’Amour 2016
All rights reserved




I studied the spreadsheet on my desk. The numbers for last quarter’s earnings. They sucked. We were operating in the red and facing bankruptcy. If my dick was the line of my P&L chart, it would look like it fell off a cliff. That’s how bad they were. For decades, Donut King had been the number one breakfast stop in the country, but year after year our market share had declined. Numerous locations had shut down. What the hell was wrong with our yummy donuts and coffee? Trust me, they were delicious. Customers loved them. But with little advertising, companies like Starbeans and Coffee Depot had taken over our business. I couldn’t even remember the names of their coffees or breakfast entries, let alone how to pronounce or spell them. A Venti Caramel Macchiato? What the hell was that? And what language were we talking? Had suddenly everyone in America become seasoned sophisticates and taken a Berlitz course? A familiar caustic voice cut into my disturbing thoughts.

“Owen, you’re missing the focus group.”

“Huh?” I looked up from the depressing data and met the steely eyes of our young marketing director, Mallory Clint. While only in her mid twenties, the mousy-haired Harvard MBA looked much older in her navy pinstriped pantsuit and horn-rimmed glasses. The daughter of financier Burton Clint, whose hedge fund was keeping us afloat, she walked around as if she owned me. She thought that her father’s clout entitled her to call me by my first name whereas everyone else in the company addressed me as Mr. King. It pissed me off, but I had to treat her carefully. What made me even more on edge was that I sensed that she wanted more than a professional relationship with me. Trust me, I had no interest in fucking her. She wasn’t for me. And lately, with business in the toilet, fucking anyone was the last thing on my mind. This was the longest dry spell I’d ever endured. I’m talking years.

“Sir, this is very important. It’s giving us consumer insights.”

I appreciated that she for once called me sir. I demanded and deserved respect. I was, in fact, known to millions from TV commercials as the eponymous “Donut King,” a title I inherited from my late father who started the chain. To be truthful, they should have called me “Your Majesty” or “Your Royal Highness” or at least, “My Lord.” But at this point, it was moot. Given our latest sales numbers, I was about to fall off my throne.

I hated research. Fuck this shit. I was the kind of guy who went by my gut instincts. Nothing in my life was fifty shades of gray. Everything was black or white. I want it or I don’t. I like it or I don’t. Even my love life was like that. Or should I say lack of one. I’d never found a woman to love. Someone who I’d fallen head over heels for. Sure I was one of Southern California’s most eligible bachelors with the fortune I’d amassed from my donut empire, but that didn’t help things in the love department. I obviously had very particular taste when it came to women. When the right one came along, I was positive I’d know it.

I followed Miss Know-It-All Clint, who’d convinced me to do the group, to the research facility at the end of the hall and took a seat on the couch next to her upon entering. A platter of donuts and a tin of coffee were spread out on a credenza behind me. I peered through the one-way mirror that spanned the length of the room. The group was already in progress.

Eleven motley women of various ages and ethnicities sat around a table. But one respondent, in particular, immediately captured my attention. Holy fucking shit! She was fucking gorgeous. Big, blond, and beautiful. I swear I felt the temperature in the room rise twenty degrees. And that’s not all that was rising. I loosened my tie. For some reason, she turned her head so she was facing me. I got a better look at her stunning face. Porcelain skin with just a sprinkle of freckles on her rosy cheeks…frosted rosebud lips…and a button nose. I swear I could feel her big chocolate brown eyes burn a hole in me right through the one-way mirror. My skin heated up, the flesh near my groin kindling. Sweat clustered beneath my shirt and my heart palpitated. I was having a hot flash.

I kept my eyes on her as the group moderator explained the “rules” of the group. She wanted the women to talk one at a time and to give their true and honest opinions.

“Who are these women?” I asked Mallory.

“They’re Donut King customers though some of them also frequent Starbeans and other coffee chains.”

“Who’s the blonde?”

“Can’t you read her name tag? Maybe you need glasses.”

I squinted my eyes. Shit. Maybe I did need glasses. But as I did, her name came into focus. Olive.

I said her name aloud in my head. AAAH-love. Her name took my breath away. It was almost orgasmic. I let out a loud sigh.

Clint snickered. “Please be quiet so I can take notes. The moderator is going to show the women the current Donut King commercial.”

Miss Bossy Pants. Sometimes I thought she was either a dyke or a dominatrix or both. She grated on my nerves and she’d done nothing to turn our sales around. In fact, since she joined the company three years ago, sales had eroded further. But because of her father, I was stuck with her.

After dimming the lights, the moderator grabbed the remote and our thirty-second spot began to play on the big screen TV. My eyes stayed on Olive as she swiveled her chair to watch it. Her profile was equally gorgeous and I loved the way her butter-blond hair fell over her shoulders. And holy shit. Those tits. Two gorgeous mounds that could be sweet melons; they strained against the flimsy fabric of her blouse, pulling at the buttons. Her fluttering eyes stayed glued to the TV while she put her hand to her mouth as if she was gasping. The rise and fall of her chest was noticeable. It was like she was having some kind of Pavlovian reaction.

I’d seen this commercial a zillion times and mock-said the lines as a mom and her son stepped into a Donut King shop.

“Mommy, look it’s the Donut King!”

“Welcome to my kingdom!”

Yup, that big burly guy with the shit-eating grin behind the counter was me, wearing my royal robe and a crown. A thick, cartoony beard was pasted on my face. I looked more like the Dork King. I hated this spot. But Mallory and her team felt we should be positioned as a family-oriented brand. My eyes darted back and forth between the commercial and the beautiful blond respondent, whose eyes never left the screen. The mom and the kid each ordered a donut, and as soon as they bit into them, sparkly crowns magically appeared on their heads. I looked into the camera and said…

“Donut King. Share the magic.”

The TV screen went black and the moderator clicked the remote. The lights went back on.

“So ladies,” began the moderator, “what did you think of the commercial?”

She went around the table soliciting responses from each of the women. To my dismay, the reaction was lukewarm at best, eliciting monotone words like: “It was okay…Nothing to write home about…I’ve seen better…Meh.” Every muscle in my body clenched. They fucking hated it. And then she got to my Olive. My gorgeous Olive.

“What about you, Olive? What did you think?”

She took a deep breath, her magnificent tits quivering as she did. “I thought it was amazing.” Her eyes did that fluttering thing again. “I love the Donut King.”

Her very first words. Her voice, despite her size, was like a sparrow’s. So sugary sweet. So full of sincerity and innocence. I thought I was going to jump right through the one-way mirror. No woman had ever said they loved me, let alone with such passion and conviction.

“Could you please elaborate,” responded the group moderator. “Are you talking about the donut shop or the man who plays the part of the Donut King?”

Mallory grunted. “The moderator shouldn’t be focusing on one respondent. I’m going to go in and give her a note to move on.” She rose from the couch.

Grabbing her by the elbow, I yanked her back down. “Sit down and shush up,” I gritted. “I want to hear what Olive says.” Oh man, did I love saying her name. I could say it over and over again. I was all ears as her lush mouth parted.

“Both. I love going to Donut King. I used to stop at one every day on my way to work. They have The. Best. Donuts.”

“You don’t go there any more?” The moderator, like me, was quick to pick up on her use of the past tense.

The dazzling dimpled smile on Olive’s face fell off. “I lost my job about a month ago, so I can’t afford to go there anymore. I can’t even pay my rent.” She paused, her eyes watering. “I may get evicted from my apartment.”

“Honey, that’s too bad,” chimed in one of the women.

“Hope you find a new job,” said another.

The rest concurred, a testament to the sisterhood of women.

“Thanks,” muttered Olive, quirking a small smile. Hot damn, she was cute. And I felt bad about her job loss.

The moderator brought the discussion back on topic. “So ladies, what do you think of the actor who plays the Donut King?”

I hated to think about myself as an actor. I was a salesman. A pitch person. So good I could sell ice to an Eskimo. So I thought. The fact that sales were down—way down—made me question my abilities.

The woman who was sitting closest to the moderator chimed in again. “My five-year-old is frightened by him.”

“Same here,” commented another. “He looks like a fairy-tale villain who gobbles up children.”

Yet another: “He’s more like a bad cartoon character with that stupid beard.”

The rest of the group laughed except my Olive whose mouth fell open in a big O. And then her face hardened, her eyes narrowing with fury.

“How could you say those things? I totally disagree. He’s beautiful. I mean, just look at those dreamy blue eyes. Those gorgeous big hands. His dazzling smile and that deep, sexy voice. I love everything about him. I’d be his princess any day.”

I was melting like milk chocolate. She was attracted to me. Insanely attracted to me. I couldn’t believe my ears. She saw in me what none of these judgmental women did. If only she could see me now in my custom-made Italian suit, perfectly groomed, and all buff. My heart was beating so hard in my chest I thought it would leap out and crash right through the one-way mirror. I wanted Olive to be my princess. I wanted to rule her body, her heart, and her soul. No woman had ever had such an affect on me. Not ever.

A heated argument broke out among the women, but my Olive, God bless her, held her own.

“I can’t believe you don’t see what I see in him,” she said convincingly, fending off the naysayers.

Truthfully, I wanted no woman to see what she saw. I could afford no obstacles. I wanted her to be mine. And mine alone. I was thankful when the group moderator intervened.

“Okay, ladies, let’s calm down. We’re going to move on to the fun part of our session. The taste test.”

While Olive’s eyes lit up, the reaction of the other respondents was lackluster. I watched as the moderator rose from her chair and retrieved a large box of donuts from the credenza behind her. She set it in the middle of the table.

“Okay, ladies, dig in.”

Not one woman moved.

“What’s going on?” I asked Clint.

“I don’t know.” Edginess peppered her voice.

“I thought these women were supposed to be donut lovers,” I grumbled.

“I thought so too.”

“Where the hell did you find them?”

“The recruiter ran an ad on Craigslist. I guess they lied.”

“Jesus.” Anything to make a buck. Each of these respondents was being paid one hundred dollars to be here and share their opinions. What good were they if they didn’t eat donuts? Adding in the cost of the recruiter and the report, my calculation for this qualitative research, as Clint referred to it, came close to ten thousand dollars out of my pocket. My blood curdled. I was so simmering mad I could see smoke coming out of my nostrils.

“Goddamn it, Mallory. This is a total waste of time and money.”

“No, this is very valuable. Obviously, the donut business is dead. My father should have never invested in your company.”

I was now breathing fire like an angry dragon. “It’s not dead. Everyone loves donuts. We’re just doing something wrong.”

And then as I was about to send her in to end the group, a sweet voice filtered into the observation room. My Olive!

“Would someone please pass me the box of donuts?”

“Be my guest,” said the woman closest to them, handing it down the line of respondents as if it were filled with dog shit. My gaze stayed focused on Olive as the box landed in front of her. She lifted the lid and peeked in. Her eyes sparkled and her lush mouth watered.

“Wow! These look so good! I haven’t had one in ages.” She studied the donuts. “Eenie meenie miney moe…”

I held my breath while my cock twitched.

“I’m going to help myself to my favorite…a cream-filled one.”

Oh yes, my favorite too. It had always been our top seller.

Like in a slo-mo scene ripped out of a movie, she reached into the box and put the donut to her lips. Her eyes closed as she slowly wrapped her mouth around the circle of dough. And then she did it. Bit into it, ripping off a large chunk with her teeth. My cock boinged as the creamy filling seeped out. Holy shit! It was like the donut was having its own epic orgasm. “Mmmm.” A soft moan drifted into the room. I felt like I was going to cream my pants

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” she screamed out, arching her back and squeezing her eyes shut as she savored the biteful.

A look of ecstasy swept over her face. Every eye in the room stayed on her as she swallowed and cried out “Oh God” before going for another bite.

“I want whatever she’s having,” shouted one of the respondents.

“Me too!” echoed another woman. And then another and another. “Someone pass the box.”

While Olive finished consuming her donut, the box got passed around, and within seconds, moans and groans filled the room. It was like an orgasmic choir led by my beautiful Olive. Even the group moderator joined the chorus and I could hear her moan.

As I watched my Olive lick a little of the cream off her upper lip, I was having my own mental orgasm. My ready-to-burst cock strained against my pants. My know-it-all marketing director was wrong; she’d jumped the gun. There was nothing wrong with our donuts. Fucking nothing. Olive’s “ohs” whirled around in my head. Ideas were spinning too.

An infuriated Mallory broke into my delicious thoughts. “This is ridiculous. It’s like an orgy in there. I am going to put an end to this group.”

“Be my guest.” I had all the research—and answers—I needed. A satisfied smile stretched across my face. Orgy coincidentally began with a big “O” too.

“These women shouldn’t even be compensated,” Mallory hissed. “Especially that big fat ball of trouble.”

Rage pulsed through me; I wanted to smack her.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growled. But then a bright idea hit me. “Actually, Clint, I don’t want her compensated. Please have her stay behind and bring her to my office. I will handle her personally.”

Mallory smirked as she headed out of the observation room. “You should give her what she deserves for disrupting the group.”

That’s exactly what I had in mind. And a lot more.

“And Clint, one more thing. Please fire our advertising agency and hire the hottest one in town to do a new campaign. I want a meeting set for this afternoon.”

Mallory fired me a puzzled what-the-fuck look. Before she could utter a word, I shut her up. “Do it.”

As a miffed Mallory disappeared, my eyes drifted back to my beautiful Olive.

She had single-handedly put the O back in our donuts. I broke into another big smile. Donut King was going to re-conquer the world. And I was going to conquer her.

Author Bio

Nelle L’Amour is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment industry with a prestigious Humanatis Prize for promoting human dignity and freedom to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago, but still enjoys playing with toys…with her husband. While she writes in her PJ’s, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she’s Hollywood royalty. She aspires to write steamy stories with characters that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon and stay in your heart forever.

Her bestselling series include Unforgettable, THAT MAN, Gloria’s Secret, Seduced by the Park Avenue Millionaire and critically acclaimed Undying Love. Writing under another pen name, she is also the author of the bestselling fantasy romance series, Dewitched: The Untold Story of the Evil Queen.

To learn about her new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up for her newsletter and follow her on social media. Nelle loves to hear from her readers.

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Title: Something So Right
Author: Natasha Madison
Genre: Sports Contemporary Romance  
Release Date: August 1, 2016


The moment everything changed didn’t happen in that cliché rockets-red-glare kind of way, it happened in the form of a waking nightmare. I caught my husband, my high-school sweetheart, the father of my children, balls deep in a sordid affair.

That was when I gave up on men and love.

I didn’t count on the NHL’s golden boy, the beautiful, arrogant Cooper Stone turning my life and my hockey rink upside down.

My kids are why I wake up in the morning. 

Hockey is what Cooper breathes for.

We’re from different worlds and places in our lives but when our hearts collided something so wrong and different turned into something so right.

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Author Bio

When her nose isn't buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she's in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It's a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn't listen to her...

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Title: Rogue
Series: Deadliest Lies #1
Author: Michele Mannon
Genre: Sexy Romantic Suspense
 Release Date: August 2, 2016


My lover is dead.

And they think I killed him.

I'm running rogue. Hell bent on both revenge and redemption. Whatever it takes, I'm going to finish a job that began nine months ago. An unauthorized assignment that turned horribly, devastatingly wrong.

My miscalculation.
My fault.
My heart left shattered into incomplete pieces which will never wholly fit back together again.

But first I have to outsmart my former organization and the hired killer they've sent after me; a ghost from my past who knows my every move, who’s been inside my head, my heart, my dreams and memories: Jaxson.

I'm the traitor, Kylie. The rogue mercenary, Jaxson's newest assignment.

And this is our love story.

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Warning ~ Spice Level HOT

Kylie and Jaxson are on the run and things get a bit wild.

Terrific. He’s going to flirt with me and tease me to death.

“You up for a challenge?”

“It depends on what it is.”

“Smart girl. How about I give you a play by play? Then you can either tell me to fuck off or to go for it.”

“What if I tell you to fuck off right now?” I sweetly ask.

He chuckles. “It’s your dime, fireball. Your call.”

I arch my eyebrows. He’s got this naughty, devilish look in his eyes and, God knows, not only should I resist him but I should roll myself out of our hiding place and run as fast as my legs will carry me into the woods.

“If this will help me survive Hell Camp, I’m up for a challenge,” I hear myself say.

“Believe me, it’s going to be a lesson in restraint for me as well. So here’s the deal. I wanna tease that sweet pussy of yours. Fuck you with my fingers. See how quiet you can be, how still you can be, how in control you can be when all hell is breaking loose around you. A shame I can’t lick you like I want. We’ll save that for a better time.

What do you say?”

What do I say? I open, close then open my mouth. Nothing comes out. Not “Yes, make me come beneath this decomposing tree while Hayden’s hellions run amuck around us.” Not “No, how about courting me with a few flowers first? Or at the very least, getting me tipsy on a bottle of good wine?”

I swallow hard. “I say this is you being unpredictable. Go figure.”

His hand slides downward and across my belly.

“Don’t you dare,” I whisper.

“Oh, I dare. But . . . do you?”


“I’ve been thinking about this for days. Fuck, since you sank that knife into my thigh.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Hating that memory.

Jesus. He’s lost his freaking mind right along with me losing mine.

“Listen. You think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been eye-fucking me? Damn, I love the way you bite then lick your lip while you think I don’t know that you’re watching me.” His hand moves across my lower abdomen, the tips of his fingers sliding beneath the waistband of my sweatpants and my panties.

“Jaxson who?” I reply. Yeah, right. I’ve had eye-gasms over him for weeks.

This is crazy. Beyond crazy . . . insane. My whole experience at Hell Camp, the fights, the knives, is surreal. One adventure after another. Nothing prepared me for him. The pad of his pointer finger flickers over my nub, tempting me. I think, Why not give into this wild need to go a little nuts? Besides, I’m with the right man to push me over the edge—literally. Just looking at him . . . oh my . . .

He’s curled a finger inside my folds.

The bony part of his palm rubs across my sensitive hood.

And I’m wet, and growing wetter with each subtle caress.

“Bend your leg and put it up on my outer thigh.”

I stare at him like he’s talking gibberish.

“I need this as much as you do.” He grins like a madman, a daredevil, a man who can steal your breath away then have you begging he steal more of it. And just like that, I’m a goner.

I bend, lift my leg, and anchor it on top of his thigh. “Stop . . . talking. Or they’ll hear you,” I whisper, my tone hoarse with excitement.

Naughty. Oh so naughty, and I want it.

“Fireball,” he murmurs, “I’m going to be struggling right along with you not to give our hiding spot away. I promise you that.”

“Misery loves company,” I add, then moan as he thrusts a digit into my slick channel.

“The best kind of misery.”

Slowly, so very slowly, he slides his finger in and out, and I’m in heaven. I feel his thumb pressing into my nub as his finger drags along the walls of my channel.

“You’re wet but tight,” he breathes into my ear, “I’m going to work another finger inside. Nod if that’s okay.”

“Do it,” I demand.

As promised, he pushes a second in alongside the first. Slowly at first, then quickening the pace. I can’t help but tilt my hips along with each stroke. It’s not long before I feel the climax building up inside me.

I moan.

“Coming,” he whispers so quietly, I barely catch his question.

“Almost. Sweet Mary . . .”

“No. They’re coming. Footsteps.” He winks at me, rolling his thumb once again over my sensitive hood while his fingers plunge into me and withdraw. Once. Twice. Three times. Until my body is shaking with need.

I jerk at the sound of a voice close by. “The trail Jaxson left behind was goddamn amateurish. Like he wants us to find him. He’s around here somewhere.”

My eyebrows lift high enough to touch the tree overhead.

His smirk is full of mischief.

And, holy sweet Mary, if his tongue is anything like his fingers . . . I clamp my lips shut, holding back my moan. Yes, oh yes.

“Check around.”

No, oh no.

“Over here,” someone shouts at the same time I arch my hips toward Jaxson and pray that the mewing sound going off in my head doesn’t work its way out of my mouth.

I struggle to keep quiet, to still my movements, to not give us away. And I curse Jaxson for putting me in this situation, for masterfully bringing me to the edge, to make me want to shout out my climax, only to have to dig deep not to do so.

My eyes meet his, and without my making a sound, I crest. My pleasure clear as day in what has to be the most blissful expression known to womankind. Which, I silently gasp, is reflected in the hottest look known to mankind that crosses over his face.

Sweet mother of God. This man is going to be the death of me.

“That was fucking beautiful.”

I blush. “Shhh. They’ll hear you.”

“They’re gone, off on a wild-goose chase. I ran ahead and planted a few less-than-subtle trail marks. Still, we better head back.” He removes his hand from beneath my sweatpants, shifts my leg off his thigh, and rolls out from beneath the tree. I squeeze my eyes shut, briefly, disbelieving what I’ve just done, then slide out after him.

He offers me a hand up.

“You’re insane,” I mumble.

“And you’re beautiful.”

Author Bio

Michele Mannon creates characters who are far from perfect; who are likely to be knee-deep in trouble, heart-first in love and at wits’ end when life unexpectedly, unequivocally turns to hell. Her debut series, Worth the Fight, received two Romantic Times Magazine Top Picks.

Her new sexy romantic suspense series with St. Martin’s Press, Deadliest Lies, releases in August 2016, beginning with ROGUE, a story about what happens when your own organization sends a hit man after you mistakenly, heart-wrenchingly kill your lover.

Michele lives in Pennsylvania but likes traveling to exotic places, including the NJ shore. She’s fond of Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Lattes, quick-witted, Irish-accented men, a good story, and lots and lots of laughter.

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