Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Welcome to the Spring Fever Giveaway Party!
A dozen authors over at YA Author Rendezvous have put an awesome giveaway together – with over TWENTY chances to win!
One grand-prize winner will walk away with a signed, first edition hardback of Witch and Wizard which just so happens to be written by one of the biggest names in fiction – JAMES PATTERSON! On top of that, they get a $100 amazon gift-card!
And all if takes is a minute or two and a few clicks of the mouse.
DON’T MISS YOUR CHANCE!
Check out these other amazing prizes they have for you here.

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Title: Elemental Runes
Series: The Folstad Prophecies #2
Author: Rebecca Brooke
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: March 8, 2017



Blurb

While secretly protecting the king’s daughter, Jocelyn Marske left her realm to learn more about her powers. She accepted the sacrifices she was making, including finding the one man destined to be hers.

With her powers no longer a secret, Jocelyn’s not sure there is a place for her in this world. Until the day Gunnar steps into her life and for one brief moment she has everything she wants. But things aren’t as easy as they seem…

Jocelyn and Gunnar have no idea what awaits them. A secret they never expected. One that can kill them or make them stronger.

With the rebels hunting them at every turn, will Gunnar and Jocelyn realize that the need each other more now than ever?





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Author Bio

Rebecca Brooke grew up in the shore towns of South Jersey. Writing has always been a love for her, as well as reading. She loves to hit the beach, but always with her kindle on hand. She is married to the most wonderful man, who puts up with all of her craziness. Together they have two beautiful children who keep her on her toes. Rebecca is the author of contemporary, new adult, and paranormal romance.



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Title: The Boxer
Series: Modern Love #2
Author: Piper Rayne
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: March 1, 2017



Blurb

“Who knew a bad boy could mend a broken heart."

What does a girl do after she discovers her fiancé is a cheating bastard?

In my case, I performed the ritual implosion of all scorned women. I drowned my sorrows in cases of white wine, wallowed in gallons of ice cream, and ignited a bonfire to burn away every damn remnant of his existence. Six months later, the only result was a permanent impression of my ass on the couch.

Adventure Dating my friends dared.
A new and exciting opportunity they said.
I thought they were crazy, but I’m not one to back down from a challenge, so I signed up for the entire four-week deal.

That’s where I saw HIM. Lucas Cummings. He isn’t the classic rich boy I usually end up with. The one whose idea of working up a sweat is waiting for his margarita to be served on the beach. Nope. He’s a rough and tough bad boy that all fathers warn their daughters about. You know the type. Cocky swagger, chiseled jaw—the ‘V’.

SOLD, I said to myself, until I discovered he was so much more than just a BOXER.

Left Hook.

Right to the heart.




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Excerpt

My mouth waters as the guy who propositioned me a half hour ago strips off his robe, revealing a set of abs I’m quite positive could wash the panties I just soaked. Jesus, he’s hot, with not one ounce of fat on him. His black silk shorts have a white band of fabric around his waist that says Raging Bull.

Lennon grabs my cup out of my hand.

“Hey,” I say, reaching for it.

“No, girl, you’re gonna want to be stone sober for this one. You don’t want to be like Whit the first night she and Cole got together.” She takes a sip, but I grab the cup back, knowing I need it more than I thought.

Especially when he glances down and a perfect set of sparkling teeth emerge, revealing a smile that has me gripping Lennon’s arm for support. Then he bites his bottom lip for a second, and my fingernails dig into Lennon’s bicep.

“Damn, I wish I saw him first.” Lennon’s voice sounds as dreamy as I feel. “You better ride him like you’re a fucking rodeo star, girl.” And there’s the Lennon I know and love.

The vodka man, now known as Lucas Cummings, turns around, continuing to bounce on his toes.

Sammie’s voice rings out once more, and another boxer enters with four bodyguards and a red silk robe. He weaves through the ropes and stares down Lucas. Lucas laughs, egging him on, and my gut twists.

“The undefeated Brock ‘Lights Out’ Hayes,” Sammie announces, and the guy jumps around the ring, waving both fists in the air.

Lucas turns back toward us, but his attention is focused solely on another guy. A small man rushes in the ring, putting Vaseline on his cheeks and forehead.

“This is the real deal.” The excitement in Lennon’s voice increases.

Lucas keeps peeking over at me, an uptick on his lips each time. Eventually, the guy who I assume is his manager glances over our way to see what’s distracting him.

Whit tugs on my arm and leans in close. “Someone has caught the boxer’s attention,” she whispers and I wish my cheeks didn’t heat like they are.

“Because he’s thinking of all the ways he’s going to fuck her later,” Lennon adds, turning her head for only a second.

“What?” Whitney asks, in the dark on the whole situation.

“I met him at the bar. He asked me to meet him after,” I say, and Whitney’s eyes crinkle as if she doesn’t think that’s a good idea. So thinks the girl who resorted to Tinder.

“Like you’d do that,” she says confidently, and I bite my lower lip. The lip that is now a little tingly from what I assume is the Everclear. “Tahlia, don’t you think you should wait for your second one-night stand for someone of his…caliber?”

Cole peeks over her shoulder. “I met him a few weeks ago when I came to watch the fights. Seems like an okay guy.”

Whitney raises her hand, and it smacks Cole in the face. He grabs his nose.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She glances at him for a second before her eyes set on me again like a mother scolding her teenager.

“No, babe, it’s my fault. I know better than to try to get in the middle of a conversation between you three.” Cole touches his nose a few times and wiggles it around.

“Guess you’re not the kinda guy to jump in that ring then.” Lennon laughs and points at him. Cole raises his eyebrows in her direction.

“Are you challenging me, Lennon?” Cole asks and the three of us laugh.

Whitney waves her hands around. “Forget that. Tahlia, you can’t go have a one-night stand with someone like him.”

I look past Whitney to Cole. “I think you need to go over the one-night stand rules. First one being, you don’t know the person. Second qualification, you pick the hottest guy.”

Cole laughs, but Whitney only becomes more agitated. I’m not sure why she’s giving me trouble. She’s the one who brought me here tonight.

“Tahl,” she sighs.

“Whit,” I mimic her tone. “I’m a grown woman. I’ll be fine.”

Lennon elbows me a few times. “The blood is about to spew,” she says and jumps up, screaming, “Go, black shorts!”

Lucas turns around to Lennon and then cocks an eyebrow in her direction. For a second, jealousy spikes within me, but when his gaze turns to me and he smirks, I melt. Unable to deal with the thought that the guy up in the ring could be inside of me in a few hours, I tip the rest of my Everclear and down it.



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Author Bio

Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two established authors for the price of one. You might be wondering if you know us? Maybe you’ll read our books and figure it out. Maybe you won’t. Does it really matter?

We aren’t trying to stamp ourselves with a top-secret label. We wanted to write without apology. We wanted to not be pigeon holed into a specific outline. We wanted to give readers a story without them assuming how the story will flow. Everyone has their favorite authors, right? And when you pick up their books, you expect something from them. Whether it’s an alpha male, heavy angst, a happily ever after, there’s something you are absolutely certain the book will contain. Heck, we’re readers, too, we get it.

What can we tell you about ourselves? We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.



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Author: Melissa Townsend
Title: Change Me
Series: Protector #2
Release Date: Feb 7, 2017
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Macie Smith was eager to leave her hometown of Puyallup, Washington, after graduating high school. She knew there was no way around being a Protector like her brother, and she was okay with that. Macie knew in her heart that her purpose was to protect others; however, she refused to follow in her brother’s footsteps forever. She moved to Florida in hopes of finding herself. In the process, she found Jasper White.

Jasper was the polar opposite of the Protectors. Rather than feeling the pain of others like Macie and her brother, he was usually the one to cause it: Jasper was a Raider. He'd spent the last three years being a real-life bad boy. When he first laid eyes on Macie, he instantly knew he wanted her…until he found out she was a Protector. He had already had a few run ins with other Protectors, and to say they were enemies would be putting it lightly. He knew he didn't stand a chance with Macie, but he couldn't stay away. He would have to change his Raider ways in order to make her his.


 


The smile he had been wearing had disappeared and the indifferent look in his eyes had been replaced with… was that desire? I felt my stomach flop when he took a step toward me. I inhaled a deep breath when he took another step. His face was inches from mine and I wanted to be unaffected. Or at least make him think I was unaffected by him. He reached out and ran his fingers down the length of my arm. Chill bumps followed behind his touch and I cursed my body for being such a trader. He slowly started to lean closer to me, his head was lowering and his gaze was fixed on my lips. I licked them involuntarily and slowly raised onto my tip toes. His lips touched mine and my entire body started to tingle.


From a rural community in southern Oklahoma, Melissa Townsend is a married dental assistant with one child; and on the surface, the picture of today’s ordinary working wife and mother from Smalltown, U.S.A.

As a busy mom, she initially found her escape in reading. It is just in the past few years that she’s found her passion and enjoyment of telling her own stories. Having never travelled or experienced much beyond the realm of country-living, Melissa finds herself taking journeys through an array of genres and different writing styles. Don’t let her quiet, small town, ordinary demeanor mislead you. Sit with her for very long and you will quickly discover her wit, dry sense of humor, and unique perception of the world around her. It’s these characteristics spieled out into her stories that define her writing style and will keep you wanting more.
 



Title: Stealing the Show
Series: Show Time Fever #2
Author: Lilliana Rose
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 8, 2017



Blurb

Kristie comes to the Royal Adelaide Show every year with the sheep. This year will she return with more than just prizes? Or will she steal the heart of a man as well, and snag the love of her life?

Kristie Johnson plans to run the family farm one day. As the only child, she lives with her parents and struggles to get them to see that she can make her own decisions and that she is a grown woman. Then, she meets Tully Row, a dancer performing at the show and she turns to him for a few days of fun. Instead she finds herself falling for him, especially when she finds out he’s a country boy himself.

The youngest of three sons, Tully was forced away from the farm he loved to the city to make his own living. He started dancing and was given a gig at the Royal Show. His family are at the show with the milking cattle and they spend more time arguing. He feels unsupported by them, and can’t get them see his performances. Kristie is a distraction, an enjoyable distraction at first, but then she steals his heart. Their shared lust turns into something deeper and more special between them.

Can both of them stand up to their families and follow their hearts to begin a relationship and their lives together?




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Excerpt

“Here you go, miss.” The guy slid her coffee toward her.

“Ta.” Slamming a lid on the top of the paper cup, Kristie quickly turned around to hurry back to Ellie. She collided with someone else. Her hand crushed the paper cup, causing the lid to pop off and coffee to squirt in the air.

“Shit.” Kristie quickly changed hands on the paper cup, shaking off the hot coffee that had landed on her skin. Her anger flared as she glanced for the person she’d bumped into.

“Sorry.”

She gazed up straight into the softest blue eyes that cooled her anger at losing half her coffee, which was now staining her good shirt. Damn it all. Heat flushed her checks. She knew damn well that she hadn’t been looking where she was going.

Her voice caught in her throat as her eyes soaked in his features as if he were the caffeine shot she needed. Just taller than her, his tousled blonde hair was styled in a deliberate unkempt manner, dark stubble graced his chin, and he stood slightly taller than her average height of five foot five. His biceps bulged at the edge of the tight shirt he was wearing, and with a quick glance down. Tight waist, and a flush of heat made her lift her eyes. In one second flat, she had gone through her requirements and by appearance alone he ticked every one.

She swallowed hard. “My fault.”

Her voice squeaked and she cringed. Get a hold of yourself. She wasn’t looking for a fling. Or even anything more serious, not since the scare on her dad’s life. She had to be ready to run the farm. But this guy, standing in front of her, apologising when it was clearly her fault had set a fire low in her belly, and muscles contracting with hope.

“I’m in a rush. Meet me here after the show and I’ll get you another coffee.” His blue eyes soft and intense seemed to speak at a soul level to her.

Kristie paused. About half the coffee was on the ground or down the front of her blue striped shirt, and some on her blue jeans. But there was enough in the paper cup. “It’ll be all right. It was an accident.”

“No, promise me you’ll be here.” He put his hand on her arm. The heat from his palm burned through the material of her shirt, causing her knees to weaken.

“Please.”

Bloody hell. “I’ll be here. Good.” He smiled, then hurried away. Kristie stood there, staring at him, his tight arse in particular until he disappeared in the crowd. She sighed. Took a sip of her coffee. Can I really meet him here after the show?



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Author Bio

Lilliana has grown up on a farm in Australia, and has now swapped her work boots for city heels. Country life remains strong in her heart and this comes out in the characters and stories she creates. Check out more of her work: http://www.lillianarose.com/



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Coming April 4th















It wasn’t until Cameron that I knew what real darkness was…or that I’d crave it so much.

I’ve let the world weigh down on me; pull me under until nothing makes sense anymore. Maybe that’s how I let myself get into the mess I’m currently in? Maybe that’s how I’m in my current situation with a man I knew could save me from a fate worse than death. Even if being with Cameron, giving him the very part of me, the only part that’s worth anything—my body—might very well ruin me, I have to survive.

Drug lord. Crime Boss. Murderer. I should fear him, be horrified by what he wants from me, by who he is. But instead, I find myself wanting to please him, wanting to give myself over completely.

Because I know that gives me control over him.

Cameron Ashton reins over the gritty underworld, the danger and violence of depravity, from his throne. A pistol is his sword, and apathy is his second-in-command. I know he’s dangerous, know he’ll break me and not think twice. But he’s my only chance, the only way I’ll survive.

        He’s possessive and controlling. And he does own me, every part of me. The darkness in him runs stronger, deeper than it ever had in me. Maybe we’re not so different? Maybe giving up my control to Cameron, giving him my very soul, makes me the powerful one?

Maybe, in the end, I’ll be the one who owns him.



Warning: This is a filthy, dark romance. There may be subject matter and triggers that are sensitive to some readers. In the end, this IS a romance, albeit a twisted one. If you’re looking for a story that gives you the warm and fuzzies, this is not the book for you.






Chapter One



The sweat running down the valley between my breasts was reminiscent of fingers moving along me. I was hot, my body flushed, my heart racing. Everything in me felt alive, ready to tear through my skin like another entity wanting to escape.

I was drunk, and I felt incredible.

The bodies pressed tightly against me, moving sexually, suggestively, made me feel even better. It made me feel alive. I moved with them, swaying to the music, inhaling the scent of sex and alcohol that seemed to surround me. I was sure a lot of people would be fucking tonight. No doubt it would be dirty, their inhibitions having been left at the club as they took home a random person. It would be the kind of sex that drunk people had, sloppy, carefree.

I wasn’t a good girl. I didn’t follow the rules. And my life was less than memorable. I lived like today was my last, because for all I knew it would be. It could be.

I came to this club when I couldn’t stand the box that was my life, the one that was sealed tight, no airholes, no light getting through the crack. I got wasted, danced until my body was covered with sweat, my muscles sore, and some poor, hard-up frat guy got off in his jeans by grinding against my leg. I was a wreck in many ways, and I had no doubt that people assumed I was slutty by the way I dressed, by the way I moved on the dance floor.

But how I dressed and acted didn’t make up who I was: a virgin who was lost, who had no one, nothing. I was an inexperienced woman who came here and danced because I wanted a little bit of release…the only kind I ever got. How I felt here was like being consumed by the water, of being helpless but weightless, of being sucked down to the very bottom where no light was permitted.

I wasn’t light. I was darkness wrapped up in a five-foot-five frame, with dark hair, a wild streak, and no one to stop me.

Maybe I was a contradiction to myself, a lost girl who didn’t know what she wanted in life. But it’s who I was, how I got through each day.

I embraced it, knowing that maybe my upbringing made me this way, that having an absentee mother, a drunk for a father, and a penchant for getting slapped on occasion by said parents had shaped the woman I now was.

I wasn’t broken, but I was damaged.

Or maybe it had nothing to do with my parents or what I didn’t have growing up: love. Maybe I was just born this way.

Either way I didn’t try and stop it. I didn’t try and change.

“You look good out here dancing, girl.” The feeling of a guy behind me, of his hands on my hips, his hard cock digging into my lower back, had dual sensations moving through me. “You feel good,” he said again, his voice thick, aroused, slurred from the no doubt many drinks he’d consumed. “What’s your name.”

I thought about lying, pretending I was someone else. Instead I said, “Sofia.”

The truth.

I wanted him to get off, because knowing I had that kind of control, that kind of power, fueled me. But on the other hand I felt disgust, mainly for myself. I felt and smelled his hot, liquor-laced breath along my neck. I shivered, and the way he groaned made me assume he thought it meant I was into this.

I wasn’t, but I didn’t stop from grinding on him.

I lifted my hands, closed my eyes, and just thought about something else. I wasn’t here, wasn’t trying to get this guy to come in his pants. I was far away, so distant that nothing could touch me. I was the one who had control, and that control made me feel free, alive.

“Come home with me. Hell, let’s go back to my car.”

“Come home with me. Hell, let’s go back to my car.”

I shook my head. He needed to shut up.

“Come on, girl.” He ground his dick against me again. He felt small, even though he was hard.

“No. Either shut up and dance with me, or go find someone willing to go home with you.” I didn’t even know if he heard me over the rush of the music, but if he said one more word, I’d just go get a drink.

He tightened his hold on my hips, digging his small dick into my back. “I bet you’re wet for me right now, aren’t you?” His breath was hot, humid. It was acidic and I gagged.

I was bone-dry, not even the teasing of arousal playing over me. I never felt anything when I danced with these guys. It was what made me feel free, made me feel powerful in an otherwise unstable world. I might not have any kind of control with my personal life, with my finances, with anything that could ground me, but at this club, where the drinks flowed, the sex was potent, and my power was immense…I was the one in charge.

I’d been called a dick tease, a bitch, whore, a cunt…any and all of the above. None of that mattered. They were verbal bullets, and in this club I wore my bulletproof vest.

I pushed away from the guy and made my way to the bar. He was either cursing me out or had hopefully moved on to someone more receptive to what he was actually after. But when I got to the bar, the people crammed together, shouting, lifting their hands to get one of the three bartenders to come their way. I decided tonight was done. I’d hit the bathroom, then call a cab.

Pushing my way through the throng of bodies, the air stale, humid, the heat suffocating, I said a silent prayer that the line to use the bathroom wasn’t up the ass. But there were still a few girls ahead of me. I leaned on the wall, resting my head back against it, and stared up. I noticed the video camera aimed right at me. There were several in this hallway, two in the back, one pointing at me, and another aimed at the dance floor.

I had no doubt there were a dozen more at other locations. Although this place was wild on most nights, it also had a reputation for being safe—well, as safe as a nightclub could be. It had just been renovated by the new owner over the last year, a man I’d heard rumors about, and one I never wanted to meet.

Dark and dangerous. Violent and psychotic. He’s not a person you want to meet in a dark alley. He’d just as soon slit your throat for looking at him the wrong way.

Rumors, of course, but it was those words, whispered by everyone and anyone, that told me there had to be a little bit of truth behind them.

I feel sorry for anyone who pisses off Cameron Ashton, because he’ll solve that problem with a shovel and a six-foot-deep hole.

Pushing off the wall when it was my turn inside, I used the facility, went over to the sink to wash my hands, and stared at myself in the mirror. The girl who stared back looked sad, and not in an emotional way. My reflection showed a hot mess. My eyeliner was starting to smear under my eyes, pieces of my dark hair stuck to my temples, and the lipstick I had on, once red and vibrant, now looked dead and colorless.

I finished in the restroom, pushed my way through the crowd, and finally opened the door that led outside. The cool night air washed over me, and I involuntarily closed my eyes, moaning softly. It felt good out here, the crush of bodies and heat a distant memory the longer I stood here.

The alcohol that had once numbed me, clouding my head with the nothingness, started to clear. Maybe I hadn’t been as drunk as I’d thought. Being behind those doors was like another world. The lights, music, the people trying to get off any way they could, brought you down low to a depraved, sticky and disgusting level. It’s what I loved.

I needed to get home now, had work in the morning, had to get back to my shitty life. I fished my cell out of the miniscule handbag I carried with me, dialed the cab service I had memorized, and told them the address. Coming here for the last year should have had them knowing me by name. As I waited for them to arrive, ten long fucking minutes, I moved away from the front doors and leaned against the wall off to the side.

I glanced up, the streetlight close by bright but not quite reaching me fully. Looking to my left, I noticed another security camera, this one pointed at the front doors. Never let it be said this place didn’t have their shit together.

The sound of a lighter going off to my right had me glancing over. I saw the flare of the flame, smelled the scent of the cigarette as its owner inhaled and then exhaled.

“Hey, girl.”

I exhaled. God, of course the guy from inside, the one with the small dick and the need for me to go home with him, would be out here. I didn’t bother replying, didn’t want to engage. Instead I turned my head in the other direction and glanced at a few people across the parking lot smoking. I felt the lightest touch on my arm.

The hell?

I glanced to my right, and before I knew what was happening, that light touch from the asshole turned into him pulling me farther into the shadowy side street.












Jenika Snow is a USA Today Bestselling Author that lives in the northwest with her husband and their two daughters. Before she started writing full-time she worked as a nurse.



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