Friday, February 3, 2017


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For Bryn Stafford, the prospect of going home for her sister's extravagant Valentine's Day wedding, hopelessly single...again, sounds like hell on earth. She's always dreaded introducing anyone to the hot mess that is her over-the top, obnoxiously wealthy and well-bred family, but desperate times call for desperate measures. After seeing an ad for the city's premier escort service, Elite Fling, Bryn finds herself making an appointment to hire one very handsome, very expensive, fake date for the big day.

When the woman of Brodie Merrick's dreams walks into Elite Fling, his brother's slightly immoral but incredibly successful “dating” service, Brodie has two thoughts a) what the hell is a girl like her doing in a place like this and b) what would those sparkly red stilettos feel like wrapped around his neck? He begs his brother to give him the job, even though he’s just the computer guy and most definitely not an escort, but because Brodie is lucky he soon finds himself with one very sexy fake Valentine.

When they meet on the day of the wedding, Bryn assumes he's the escort she's hired to be her date, but Brodie has other plans, plans that involve him and her and a very long and lucky orgasmic future together. Can he win his feisty fake Valentine's heart or will their chemistry fade faster than the syrupy sweet sugar high?

Warning: Forget candy hearts and frilly flowers, Brodie is a man's man—he see's what he wants, he takes what he needs, he lays claim to what's his. He's all alpha, all the time and determined to give Bryn blissful orgasms, beautiful babies, and the last name Merrick. Hold onto your panties, Valentine For Hire is a saucy romp with a sexy, alpha stranger on Valentine's Day!













































Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.

For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn't take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book!
Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates, or stalk her on Facebook and Twitter to see which daring book boyfriend she's writing next!

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The duet is complete! Don't miss out on this amazing series by New York Times Bestselling Author, Violet Duke!

BUY NOW:
Blurbs:
BEFORE THAT NIGHT
- A USA TODAY Bestseller! -- Before that night, Addison Milan had been just a college dropout secretly raising her two young siblings in a beat-up minivan she'd bought with her first semester's tuition refund--the only money her addict mother hadn't taken off with when she'd abandoned them nearly two years ago.
Before that night, Caine Spencer had been just a rough, gruff cop sent to check out the phoned-in claims of suspected child neglect involving the same woman he'd met just months prior when she'd first served him the city's worst diner coffee...which he'd been drinking daily ever since. Before that night, Addison would never have thought the man she'd been fighting hard not to fall for--her only friend in her new shadow of a life--would be in a position to rip her family apart. Before that night, Caine would never have believed any woman could make him fall head over heels, let alone make him feel so damn compelled to look the other way when it came to his job. Then that one perfect night changed everything. "Hot, sweet, and filled with tender moments, Violet Duke writes heroes who make me swoon!" -- New York Times bestselling author Kendall Ryan BEFORE THAT NIGHT (Bk 1 of 2) chronicles the events that take place seven years prior to EVERY NIGHT WITHOUT YOU (Bk 2 of 2), Caine & Addison's story of love, sacrifice, and the lengths one will run--and chase--when their past threatens their future.
EVERY NIGHT WITHOUT YOU
Seven years.
Seven damn years of wondering whether the woman was still alive...whether she'd spent the last two thousand five hundred fifty-five days wondering if he was still alive. Wondering whether that night was as burned into her memory as it was his. Seven years having his heart tethered to Addison―and now she's back. With even more reasons to run than she'd had then. Only this time, Caine isn't letting the gorgeous little flight risk out of his sight. Regardless of how noble her reasons may be. "Violet Duke is my go-to read when I just want to immerse myself in a captivating romance." - NYT bestselling author J.S. Cooper EVERY NIGHT WITHOUT YOU (Bk 2 of 2) takes place seven years after BEFORE THAT NIGHT (Bk 1 of 2), and is the conclusion of Caine & Addison's story of love, sacrifice, and the lengths one will run―and chase―when their past threatens their future.
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About the Author: NEW YORK TIMES & USA TODAY bestselling author Violet Duke is a former English Ed professor ecstatic to now be on the other side of the page writing emotion-rich stories with fun, everyday characters and sweet, sexy match-ups. Since her acclaimed debut series in 2013, over a million readers have put Violet’s “laugh & cry” contemporary romances on the USA Today bestseller list sixteen times, the NYT bestseller list three times, and the Top 10 charts across the major eretailers both in the U.S. and internationally. When she doesn’t have her nose in a book, Violet enjoys the live-out-loud-in-your-PJs sorta lifestyle she loves writing about, which involves lots of: 1) excuses to use her power tools, 2) doing stuff without checking the directions, and 3) impossible-to-be-duplicated ‘special edition’ dishes that laugh in the face of recipes. Born and raised in Hawai’i, Violet continues to live the no-shoes island way with her kids (daughter Violet & son Duke) and husband (aka their ringleader…and her most devoted fan). Connect with Violet Website: http://www.violetduke.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/VioletDukeBooks/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/VioletDukeBooks Amazon: http://amzn.to/2i0FpNC Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7020583.Violet_Duke

Title: After You
Author: Stephanie Rose
Release Date: Feb 21, 2017
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After You is the final STANDALONE novel in the Second Chances series.

I had the happily ever after . . . until it was gone.
Three became two. And I was alone.
Our time—my time—was over. Alone was the right way to be. The only way. Life was me, my son, and my memories. Until the day I met someone who turned my lonely existence upside down.
This man made me smile, made me laugh, made me ache for his touch.
But I couldn’t.
He shouldn’t awaken feelings I resolved to bury with my husband. But he did.
I couldn’t let his presence make my heart race. I couldn’t let him into our little world, where he fit so perfectly. I couldn’t want Nick.
But I did.

***

I rescued people. My family relied on me to lend a hand. Everyone thought of me as the fixer, but no one had the first clue how to fix me. Until Ellie.
The freckled beauty’s sorrow was like a well-worn shirt—easy and familiar, difficult to part with—and she wore it comfortably. And though I was hers from the moment our eyes first met, she’d never be mine. I loved her in the here and now, but how did I compete with a ghost?

***

How can there ever be anyone After You? 



“Friend of the bride or groom?” I jumped at the deep timbre of the voice beside me. I was so into my thoughts I didn’t hear anyone approach.

“Um, both, I guess. Paige is family and Evan is a close friend.” I lifted my head to the man towering over me. The light was at his back, blocking the features on his face.

“Mind if I sit?” He motioned to the empty space on the bench beside me.

I shook my head and shrugged. “No, go right ahead.” He settled next to me, and I felt even smaller than usual. His large frame dwarfed mine.

“Nick … I’m a college friend of Evan’s.” He extended his hand, and I raised my eyes to him as I took it. Even in the dim lighting, I could make out his warm but striking dark eyes. “Seeing him finally marry Paige was worth a trip from Florida for me.”

I chuckled and nodded. “Ellie. Everyone seemed to know but her.”

Nick let out an exaggerated sigh. “If I had a dollar for every time I said ‘Just tell her,’ I’d be rich.” He shook his head and laughed. “So, what is a beautiful woman like you doing out in the cold all by herself?” He raised an eyebrow, then held his gaze on me as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The light illuminated the strong planes of his jaw and full lips. Despite being in the throes of my personal pity party, I couldn’t help but like what I saw.

I exhaled and stared at the ground. “I needed a little air, I guess.” I stuffed my hands under my folded arms, but it didn’t make one ounce of difference. I was freezing my lonely ass off.

“You’re shivering. Know where it’s nice and warm?” Nick cocked his head.

“Where?” I squinted my eyes and shrugged.

“The bar inside. Have a drink with me?” He rose from the bench and extended his hand to me. I jerked away on instinct.

It was on the tip of my tongue to say, ‘No thank you, I’m married,’ but . . . I wasn’t, was I? And I’d spent enough time feeling sorry for myself tonight. My toes were frozen inside my high heels, and an alcoholic beverage with an attractive man who didn’t regard me with pity in his eyes sounded lovely.

“Sure.” I slipped my hand inside his and followed him inside. I craned my head around the mostly empty restaurant. Evan and Paige were long gone, starting their lives together. I hoped the rest of their lives were longer than the one I had with Jack.

I settled into a bar stool and dug into my purse. “I think the open bar ended when the bride and groom made a break for it.” Nick placed his hand over mine and shook his head.

“Put your money away. On me, whatever you’d like.” His mouth split into a wide grin as he settled next to me. He was good-looking enough outside under the soft lights. Inside and up close, he was gorgeous. He raked his hands through his short black hair before sliding into the stool next to mine. The dark suit he wore clung to his large muscular frame. Light brown eyes with longer lashes than any man had a right to fixed on me, and I was ashamed to admit I enjoyed it.

I pursed my lips and fought a smile. “Bailey’s on ice. Please.”

His smile grew even wider as he nodded. “You got it.” He called the bartender over to order our drinks as my eyes fell to my folded hands. My engagement ring twinkled at me, and I covered it with my other hand as I turned to face Nick.

“So, you said you lived in Florida?”

“Yes. Not too far from Tampa. I still have family in the Bronx; they live in Castle Hill. I took a long weekend to visit everyone.” Nick placed my drink in front of me, and I took a long sip from the thin black straw.

“Thank you. That’s nice. They must be happy about that.” I stirred the white liquid as my eyes darted from his. For some reason, it made me uncomfortable to hold his gaze for too long.

“They are. I try to visit as much as I can. My dad won’t admit it, but he hasn’t been feeling well lately, so I’ve been trying to visit more often. My grandmother will probably live to be a hundred.” Nick rolled his eyes and shook his head, making an unexpected laugh escape me.

“You only met Evan in college?”

“Yeah, two boys from the Bronx met in Philadelphia. He’s a great guy; I’m sure I don’t have to tell you.”

I nodded as a smile tugged at my lips. Evan was one of the best people I knew. “He sure is.”

We spent the next hour making small talk. Nick was charming and funny. It felt good to laugh and to not force a smile. My face ached from doing that for most of the night.

“So.” Nick put down his whiskey sour as his eyes bored into mine. “Were you . . . here with anyone tonight?”

I grimaced and looked away. “No. No, I’m wasn’t.”

Nick let out a long sigh. “I’m being too forward and making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m enjoying your company. I’m not uncomfortable, really.” I gave Nick a big smile, ignoring the pang of guilt at being unfaithful. Jack had been gone for almost a year; there was no one to be faithful to. My head was aware, but my heart vehemently disagreed.

Nick’s shoulders drooped with relief. “Good. You’re . . . really beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as I sipped my creamy drink. The heat coming from Nick’s stare was making me squirm a bit.

“Took me a while to work up the nerve to talk to you. I was sure you were with someone. How could you not be?” Nick’s voice dropped to a husky rasp as my eyes locked with his. I didn't know what to do with the sudden flip-flop in my belly from Nick’s words and undivided attention. It was time to put the brakes on whatever this was turning out to be.



Stephanie Rose was born and raised in the Bronx, New York and still lives there with her superhero-obsessed husband and son.

She has a Bachelor’s degree in Business and a day job in marketing, but she always has a story in her head. Her books are full of swoon-worthy men and feisty heroines.

This lifelong New Yorker lives for Starbucks, book boyfriends, and 80s rock. Her voice is often mistaken for a Mob Wives trailer.

Books by Stephanie Rose:
Always You: http://amzn.to/1j5N0X1
Only You: http://amzn.to/1SWdjM1
Finding Me: http://amzn.to/2jgcGRh
Always Us: http://amzn.to/2iVftml
  

 
theknight_blogtourbanner Grab THE KNIGHT by Skye Warren NOW! “Positively sinful, and outrageously sexy! Emotions run high and readers will be left gasping.” – New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones
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The power of pleasure…
Gabriel Miller took everything from me. My family. My innocence. My home. The only thing I have left is the determination to get back what’s mine. He thinks he’s beaten me. He thinks he’s won. What he doesn’t realize is that every pawn has the chance to become a queen. And the game has only just begun. THE KNIGHT is book two in the Endgame series from New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren about revenge and seduction in the game of love.
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EXCERPT:
“Still giving orders, little virgin? Is that something you’re born with in the St. James family, or did they teach you that along with your ABCs?” Rage tightens a knot in my stomach. “I’m not a virgin.” “No?” he asks, lifting a hand to my face. I stand very still as he captures my chin between his thumb and forefinger, torn between wanting to wrench away and wanting him to kiss me. How can he make me feel alive when I’ve been sleepwalking for months, years? What sick twist of fate let the hands of this man bring me pleasure? “You made sure of that.” I mean the words to come out cold, unhurt. Instead I sound breathless and somehow inviting. The white carpet may as well be streaked with red. We’re both back in his bedroom, both flushed and sated and ripped to shreds from what he’s just done. He lifts my face, almost tender. “I put my cock into your warm little hole. Pushed right through that thin hymen to do it. It felt like fucking heaven to break you open.” I’m a tuning fork in his hands, and the sound I make is pure arousal. “I despise you.” “You were so wet,” he says, almost thoughtful. “But some of it was blood, wasn’t it?” “I’m going to find a way to get my house back.” He bends his head slightly, enough that our lips are an inch away, the words a tickle of breath against my lips. “I got off on the slide of your blood on my cock. I came that way, spilling salt into the fresh open wound.” There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to him, no line I wouldn’t cross in this moment. My anger takes an unholy shape, rearing back with all the fury and fear of a wild horse ready to trample his enemy. “And God help me, I’m going to ruin you. The way you did my father. I’m going to break you.” He nudges my chin higher, exposing the vulnerable line of my throat. His mouth drops to the tender skin, a whisper of a kiss. “Do you want to make me bleed, little virgin?” The violence takes me by surprise. My swing is wild, aimed straight for his face with all my strength. He catches my wrist midmotion, the abrupt stop shooting pain down my arm. We’re frozen that way, him holding me, breathing each other’s air. “Don’t call me that,” I say between clenched teeth. “Little virgin.” “I’m not. You saw the proof of it. You paid a million dollars for it.” “Actually,” he says, voice deceptively mild. “I paid a million dollars to use you for a month. And as that month isn’t over yet, I think I’d like to collect.” Shock courses through me, singeing every angry intention. “No.” “And as for your virginity, there are a hundred ways you haven’t been taken. A thousand ways you haven’t been fucked. A million dollars left to earn.” “That money’s mine. You sent me away.” “And yet,” he says, echoing his earlier words, “here you fucking are. This is what you wanted. This is what you came for. Did you really think you’d see me and walk away without my come inside you?” My gasp sounds virginal even to myself. “Of course I did.” He uses the hold on my wrist to drag me closer, off balance, almost falling into him. His warmth surrounds me, along with a musk my body remembers. Alarm bells ring more than they did this morning. A strange man could hurt me, but Gabriel—he’s worse. My own kryptonite. “Here’s the thing about fucking a virgin,” he whispers, breath a caress on my temple. “You gave me your pretty little hymen, the small spill of blood. The first feel of those walls squeezing my cock. And there’s no way to get it back, not ever. No matter who else you fuck. Even if you settle down with some prep-school fucker and let him climb on top of you every single night, I’ll always be your first. You will always be my little virgin.” The show of possession does something strange to me. It should be offensive. It’s meant to be offensive, but the humiliation turns liquid and hot inside my body. And the worst part is, I can’t even deny the truth. He left an imprint inside me. I can still remember the stretch of him, the burn. The very shape of that heavy thickness I can feel against my stomach now. And anyone who comes after him, they’ll never quite fill the space he carved inside of me. “That’s right,” he murmurs, soothing now that I’ve acquiesced. “I’ve got you.” “No, we can’t—” He releases my wrist only to run a finger along my cheek. “So young. You look so young like this.” “It’s the makeup,” I say with difficulty. And the hair. And the clothes. In a thousand ways I was different before, the society princess. What am I now? Almost homeless. Definitely scared. His eyes gentle, more brown than they’ve been before. “You didn’t think you were getting fucked today. You got dressed and took the bus and came up the elevator having no idea.” “Don’t feel sorry for me.” A slight smile. “Not enough to stop. Take off those clothes. Let’s see what you look like when you’re just a sweet, innocent college girl and not the toy I bought at auction.”
Start the series today!
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BUY NOW: ❧ Amazon: http://amzn.to/2fF2vn6 ❧ iBooks: http://apple.co/2ef7pt5 ❧ Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2dlJzNZ ❧ Kobo: http://bit.ly/2edcF1s
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Blurb:
"Sinfully sexy and darkly beautiful, The Pawn will play games with your heart and leave you craving more!" - Laura Kaye, New York Times bestselling author The price of survival... Gabriel Miller swept into my life like a storm. He tore down my father with cold retribution, leaving him penniless in a hospital bed. I quit my private all-girl's college to take care of the only family I have left. There's one way to save our house, one thing I have left of value. My virginity. A forbidden auction... Gabriel appears at every turn. He seems to take pleasure in watching me fall. Other times he's the only kindness in a brutal underworld. Except he's playing a deeper game than I know. Every move brings us together, every secret rips us apart. And when the final piece is played, only one of us can be left standing. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * THE PAWN is a full-length contemporary novel from New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren about revenge and seduction in the game of love. It's the first book in the brand new ENDGAME series. theknight-teaser4
The cover and blurb for THE CASTLE by Skye Warren is here!
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preorder now! Amazon: http://amzn.to/2jmNICN iBooks: http://apple.co/2kxF0Dp ADD TO GOODREADS: http://bit.ly/2kxNk66
Blurb: I’m safe in the ivory tower Gabriel Miller made for me. That’s what he says. Enemies lurk outside, waiting to strike. An army of enemies held back by these walls. Except some animal instinct warns me the danger is much closer. It’s already here. Is Gabriel Miller my protector or my enemy? Is this house a castle or a cage? There’s nowhere for me to go, no one left for me to trust. No escape from a past determined to capture its prize. theknight-teaser2
About the Author:
Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of contemporary romance such as the Chicago Underground series. Her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, two sweet dogs, and one evil cat.
Contact Skye:
Title: When the Butterflies Come
Series: Rosemary's Butterflies #2
Author: Rosemary Ness Bitner
Genre: Crime Thriller Romance
Release Date: March 3, 2017 Cover: Carrie at Cheeky Covers
An angry David plunges into insanity, forcing his twisted world view upon his new protégé as his old enemy seeks final revenge. Taking on all comers in the fight of his life he closely guards his dark secrets. Barbara loves Bob, but why do Marty and David conspire to keep them apart? It can’t be the business that drives David, so what is it? What unmasks this bizarre evil genius? People disappear. Hush money changes hands. Secret keys hide secret files behind secret doors. Suddenly thrust into a life or death situation, Barbara creates a clever plan to hunt down a key piece of evidence. A quiet night is shattered by her dead mother’s voice. A priest who can’t possibly know her makes a mysterious appearance and stirs her to act. Can she risk her family’s trust and money to go away with her man? If they reach the Cedar River, will she have the strength to ford its raging current? Erotic, thrilling, and deeply probative into the debauched thoughts of a ghoulish psychopath, When the Butterflies Come will haunt you, take your emotions for a roller coaster ride and make you an unshakable believer in true love and the magical spirits of butterflies.
I’m reclusive by choice. I live near the edge of a wilderness area and my best friends are the forest animals. I love watching them go about their lives. I like to disappear into the wild for several days or a week at a time to get my best ideas and do my thinking. I have one house pet, a big tabby cat named Bud.
MY INTERESTS
My interests are varied. I’m fascinated by peoples’ varied personalities and forever curious about how different people came to behave the way they do and think the way they do. I like to write about things where I believe I can tell a story that sheds a fresh perspective on a possibly misplaced common perception, or when I can perceive something about the future that, for reasons I do not fully understand myself, I can develop a story around and use that story to project what will happen. I try to feel what my characters feel in my stories. In fact, sometimes I cry when I write about sad things, and sometimes I cry happy cries when I write about things that relieve a character from stresses or something bad. I also feel a terrible sadness for my bad boy and bad girl characters because they can’t help themselves from being bad. When my characters fall in love, I try to put into their minds the same feelings I think I would have if I were them.
MY INSPIRATION
It’s hard to explain what inspires me to write. It’s more because I enjoy doing it than anything else. I get to thinking about someone I knew or read about or heard about and then a story takes form. Some mornings when I wake up there are thoughts about one or more of my characters swirling through my mind and I hurry to write those thoughts down because they are the very best outlets to express the story. Somehow they bubble up from the sub-conscious. Likely the mind is more miraculous than any of us realize. Writing is a way for me to give to others by releasing my feelings. I’m always hopeful that my work will help someone gain a perspective they didn’t have before or someone will better understand a person they couldn’t understand before.
PURR
In the evenings I like to write my first drafts in pencil by an oil lamp. There’s something special about thought processes that take place when I’m alone with my lamp, my pencil, the wonderful silence and Bud. He loves to walk on my draft paper or lie down and stretch himself out on it. That’s his goofy way of telling me he needs my attention. Then I hold him close to me like he’s a little baby and give him gentle hug rubs until he purrs. That’s how I know he’s happy and feeling healthy. He has a great purr. He goes “purr, purr, purr, purr purr.” The rubs help him slip into another world, cat dream world I guess. My place gets a little untidy when I’m immersed in writing but it’s always clean, except for when Bud leaves a fur ball someplace. He can’t help himself when he does that. He’s a cat!


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