Monday, March 20, 2017

INFLICT

by Bethany-Kris Publication Date: April 3, 2017 Genres: Adult, Erotic, Romantic Suspense, Organized Crime

COVER CREDITS

Cover Designer: Popkitty Design

SYNOPSIS:

As the son of an Irish mobster, Connor O’Neil spent his boyhood hiding from the horrors of his own home. His one reprieve was a girl he knew only as Evelyn, but even she was taken away. As a man, Connor is determined to stay away from his father’s business. With Sean, participation is not a request, but a demand. The truth is, Connor might be more like the evil he’s trying to hide away from than he would like to admit. And he’s already spent years trying to cover the scars left over from the pain. A chance encounter puts the lost girl from his past back on his path, and he no longer has a choice but to face the darkness he’s been ignoring for years. Evelyn. Sasha. Slave. She doesn’t really know who she is anymore. Or maybe she does, and she doesn’t want to tell. She isn’t the same as she once was—now a thing to be kept and maintained, shuffled from owner to owner until it was her time to go. She only became Connor’s because he took her when he knew she wasn’t his to take. Except she isn’t Connor’s at all … And he can’t keep her hidden forever. ~Inflict is a Standalone Romance with graphic depictions of violence, sexual scenes, dark elements and a HEA. It is not recommended for those under the age of 18. goodreads-badge-add-38px

EXCERPT: INFLICT by Bethany-Kris

“You must think I’m stupid,” she whispered. No, he certainly did not. She was well spoken. She had a mind of her own and a questioning stare that told him there was a hell of a lot hidden beneath her exterior. He was not going to underestimate her in anything. “I don’t,” Connor said. “Then answer my question. You’re a man, so what do you want from me? They always want something; from the very start, each one has wanted something. I’ve filled a void, been used to enjoy, and even to be taught. I’ve been treated like a plaything to some, and like a sweetheart to others. What is your move?” Connor damn near choked on his next question trying to get it out, “And how many has there been?” She didn’t even think about it. “Seven, over the years.” “All Russian?” “The first one was not; he had a wife who liked me, and had three boys of her own, but no girls. He was just there to keep me, until I was passed on again. I was eleven when the wife left—I was passed on the next day.” “What then?” That spark of fire was back in her eyes. “What do you think?” “I think you’ve misunderstood my intentions,” Connor murmured. Evelyn tipped her head to the side, and her gaze dropped to his groin again. “Did I also misunderstand being in your bed, what you were doing in the shower, or the sounds you made at the end?” Cac. She had spied on him. “I have to call that friend,” Connor said, refusing to indulge her further. “You should find something to wear that covers you.” “I don’t think you mind.” I don’t, but I won’t be held accountable for reacting in an unpleasant way to an arsehole move from my guest.” Evelyn’s lips curved into a sly, sensual smile. It was shocking. Beautiful, but shocking. Men may have used her for what they wanted, but he fully believed there was a part of Evelyn that was more dangerous than she let on. “That’s a new one.” Connor’s jaw clenched. “What is?” “Jealousy. I’ve never had one that was jealous before.” Perfect. Just feckin’ grand. “I’m not … one—an owner, whatever—of those,” Connor said, more irritated than before. “You will do well to figure that out and fast, Evelyn. You will do well to stop trying to figure out what game you need to play to please me; you’re not here for that.” “Then why am I here?” Honesty was the best policy … “I don’t know yet.” He finished getting dressed, and the whole time, Evelyn never left him in private. As he passed her by to make that phone call and get something to eat for breakfast, her soft voice stopped him again. “But why don’t you touch me?” she asked. “Even those who were not terrible, still wanted that from me.” Connor looked down at her, and found she was watching him, curious and unashamed. “I told you why, love. It’s not for me to take, and if you want that, then you can ask for it.” “I don’t understand, and I’m not sure what to do or how to act for you, if you want nothing from me. I’m not sure who to be here.” “That’s a sad idea, isn’t it? That you have to be something at all, and not just a person, a woman.” Her gaze dropped. “I don’t know anything different.”

ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time. To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD WebsiteBlogTwitterFacebook GoodreadsPinterestMailing ListAmazon Author Page

ENTER THE GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Title: The Duke's Curse
Series: Legend #2
Author: Kylie Stewart
Genre: Historical/Adventure Romance
Release Date: March 20, 2017
Legend: The Duke's Curse #2 Alexandria knows the truth behind the lies. Avalon is not human, nor is he immortal. He is neither angel nor demon. He is the once and future king. Now, more than ever, Alexandria’s artistic skills could grant them their first victory in battle. It is she who holds the key to end a curse born over a thousand years ago. Will she walk away from Avalon or stay? The choice is up to her, but more than one fate hangs in the balance now. Avalon’s deepest fears lurk in every shadow. His past haunts him even in the light of day. Unable to protect Alexandria, he turns to Lancer for help. Debilitated under his newly arisen weakness, his only hope lies in Alexandria. Bound by chains of sin and shame, Avalon must fight to the death with who he once was to inherit his future. If he loses, it is Alexandria who pays the price. Can he trust her to save him from eternal darkness? Or will he lose her forever?

With a soft laugh, she shook her head. “Then wait until tomorrow. I don’t want to hate you right now.” He fingers pulled the bow loose. I did my best to keep eye contact, so she didn’t think she was having any effect on me. 
How was I able to control myself so easily? Pain ripped through the tips of my fingers, and I realized I was holding onto the wooden post for dear life. Ah, so that was how. 
“You told me not to have regrets, so I’m not going to.” 
I nearly whimpered. “Are you sure you want to do this, with me?” 
When did I become a modest man?
Alexandria nodded, shrugging her shoulders; the robe fell to the floor.
       
Damn.
She stood before me in an emerald nightgown that went to the floor. A slit ran up her right thigh, exposing pale skin. I blinked.
“Is the Dragon speechless?”
My voice didn’t want to work. My throat grew tighter, and my lungs couldn’t control the intake of air. She was straight from a dream. She was perfect, and she wanted me.
“Avalon, say something. If you don’t want to, I’ll understand.” I saw the embarrassment cross her face. 
I rushed to her, but I kept an inch between us. I wouldn’t strike until she told me to. I allowed my eyes to travel up and down her small frame. I circled her like a wolf stalking his prey. I could see every curve of her body, every ripple of lean muscle through her nightgown.
On the first pass, I hooked my finger under her chin and raised her head. I brushed my lips against parted tiers. I whispered, “Just tell me what you want, and I can make it happen.”
A soft moan passed between us as I rested my hand gently on her stomach. I moved behind her, and I pulled her back to me. Our bodies molded perfectly. With my other hand, I took a fistful of her hair and tilted her neck back against my chest.
We were past the point of no return. She needed to know that. My breathing was coming fast and harsh. I nipped and licked along her neck, stopping at her ear.
“Once I start, I won’t be able to stop.” Her entire body quivered at my words. My fingers tightened around her stomach and dared to play in the space between her hipbones. “I want you, Alexandria, so badly.” 
Pulling her rear into me, I heard a small gasp. I bit down on her shoulder. “That’s all for you if you just say the word.”
   
 Just say the words, woman. Come on, I’m going to rip my trousers.
       
I waited. 
“Tell me what you want, Alexandria.”
Nothing but the sound of her gasping for breath answered me.
“My love ...” I spun her to face me. I captured her cheeks and drew her into a deep kiss. Alexandria hesitated at first, her lips unwilling to move with mine. I waited, nibbling at her lower lip, begging for entry.
Finally, she kissed me back. It was soft, tender, and then her mouth opened in a moan as my hands gripped her bottom. I slid inside and met her tongue. A part of me expected her to bite me, but she didn’t. Instead, her arms wrapped around my neck, and it was as if I was being pulled into her.
She drew soft groans from me as her tongue warred with mine. I got lost in her. So lost, I felt as if I could survive on her taste alone. We barely came up for air as I backed her toward the wall. When she could go no farther, I picked her up and braced her. She remembered. 
Her slender legs wrapped around my waist as we continued to spar. My left hand grew bold and shoved the silky material up her thigh, feeling soft skin below. When I pulled back to look at my prize, the burning in my core became almost unbearable. She was gazing at me as though she wanted to devour me. I would let her.

Kylie Stewart has been writing short stories and books all her life. A native of Hammond, New York, Kylie grew up on the St. Lawrence River dreaming of big things. She has a Master’s of Science in Equine Business from Middle Tennessee State University, which is why there are so many horses in her books. After working in the Kentucky Race Horse Industry, she moved back to Tennessee to pursue writing, audio book narrating, and voice acting. She is a huge nerd and big into anime as well as the cosplay community.
Kylie was influenced by her Scottish heritage to become an independent British history buff. She has a small library dedicated to Tudor history and is lover of the Arthurian legends. She also has an intense love of the supernatural, theological, paranormal, and mythological worlds. Kylie lives in Dallas, TX with her husband and fellow voice actor Eric Rolon, and their two cats, Asuka and Haru.

HOSTED BY:



Title: Con Man
Author: T. Torrest
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Cover Design: Hang Le
Release Date: March 24, 2017



Blurb

Lucas Taggart is the best con man in the business, so to speak.

A former-geek-turned-hottie, Luke is now an image consultant and life coach to the rich and privileged in New York City. His eight-week program is designed to transform ugly ducklings into swans by instilling some much-needed confidence, and hey, a makeover never hurts.

But when Ainsley Carrington signs up as a client, Luke's world is thrown into a tailspin. Ainsley doesn't need an image consultant; her image is already perfect just the way it is. Luke immediately finds himself grappling with his attraction to the introverted beauty as all his old insecurities come bubbling back to the surface.

The thing is, Luke doesn't date his clients. Ever. But fighting his desire for Ainsley is proving more difficult than he ever imagined. Especially since the cocky and arrogant "confidence man" has just completely lost his cool. 

***CON MAN is a romantic comedy novel intended for ages 18+ due to some offensive language and graphic sex/sexual situations.***

READ WHEN YOU'RE IN THE MOOD FOR: cocky, fun, dramatic, insightful, relatable.








Pre-order Links

99c pre-order only price

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU





Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

The gorgeous redhead leaned forward across my favorite table at my favorite restaurant, and from the look in her eyes, I already knew what was coming next.

“So, what do you think?” she asked. “Should we take this conversation back to my hotel room?”

The two of us were seated at a prime patio table at Ocean, a fairly classy restaurant bordering the south end of Central Park. We’d been having a pleasant conversation from our outdoor post, enjoying the mid-summer breeze which was made blessedly cooler from the shade of our umbrella. We’d been planning to indulge in a leisurely meal as we talked, but Charise’s question ensured that this little luncheon was going to be cut rather short.

I eased back in my chair and assessed the fiery-haired bombshell seated across from me. Her invitation was unmistakable, and I found myself letting out with an exasperated breath. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Well, maybe I should have been a little clearer,” she purred, sliding a finger to trace along the swell of her ample breast. “I’m hoping you’ll be able to, ah, teach me a thing or two about what a man really wants.”

“That’s not what I do.” I’d encountered this scenario a time or two, and I’d learned it was best to just confront the situation head-on, without mincing words. “Look, Charise, I think you’ve been misinformed about what kind of service I provide. I’m not a sex therapist; I’m an image consultant.”

I’m the founder and CEO of Swan, Inc., New York City’s preeminent makeover service. People who felt stuck in the “ugly duckling” stage of their lives came to me for transformation. My services provided much more than a simple makeover, though. Aside from helping these ladies out with a new hairdo and some clothes, I also offered some intensive remodeling of a client’s self-esteem. Reputedly, these methods helped to unleash a woman’s inner sexpot.

It kinda went with the territory. The sex appeal was simply a happily unexpected side effect of the confidence training I provided.

Charise blinked a few times in my direction, clearly confused. “I was told that you teach women to be absolute maneaters. And after I saw the change in Darla Haagen… I mean, she was positively glowing by the time you got through with her. She said you were a godsend. She said she never experienced a better eight weeks in her entire life. I’m sorry. I guess I just assumed…”

“Sometimes people do. I’m not offended.”

Most of the time, a new client and I will have engaged in a series of emails prior to our first meeting. Even if we haven’t, it was easy enough for them to do their homework on their own; my website clearly lays out what it is that I do. But sometimes, like in the case with Charise, here, people jumped to their own conclusions and thought they were merely hiring a high-priced escort. Hell, even if I was in the sex therapy business, actual sex isn’t a part of the therapy provided.

I gave Charise a smile, trying to put her at ease regarding the mixup. Essentially, the woman had just offered herself up on a silver platter only for me to turn her down. Rather than dwell on her undoubtedly bruised ego, I decided to point her in the right direction. “In fact, if you’re looking for a sex therapist, I can recommend someone for you. I have a friend out in Arizona—his name is Justice Drake and he’s the best at what he does. But he and I don’t work in the same field, understand?”

Charise tipped her head to the side and eyed me curiously. “No. I guess I don’t understand. I thought I was hiring you to teach me how to please a man.”

“Yes, to a point. Essentially what I do is teach you how to please yourself.” Charise’s lip curled, confirming that her mind was spinning all over again. Before she could jump to another conclusion, I added, “I teach confidence. That’s it. When you think about it, that’s the sexiest trait of all, wouldn’t you agree?”

I could see the shift in her posture as my words finally sunk in. “But I already have confidence.”

“Yes, you certainly do. Rightfully so.”

She gave me a flattered smile for that. “So, I guess this isn’t going to be a good fit, is it?”

“I’m sorry, no, it’s not.”

There was an awkward pause between us as the situation sank in, until finally, she let out with a resigned sigh. “Well,” she said agreeably as she rose from her chair. “It looks like my little sex-school adventure is going to turn into a shopping marathon instead.” She gave me a smile and held out her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Luke.”

I came around to her side of the table to give her a hug. “You too, Charise.”

When we pulled away from each other, there was a devilish twinkle in her eye as she purred, “You know, Luke… Just because I’m not hiring you for sex, that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun off the clock. Armed with nothing but false information and your photograph, I flew all the way out here from Houston, and I have to say, you’re even more delicious than your picture. I’d hate to think the sexy vacation I was planning is actually going to be a complete letdown. I could use some company over the next couple of months while I’m here.”

I couldn’t contain my smirk as I answered, “That is one tempting offer, Charise. Truly. But I’m going to have to respectfully decline your generous proposition. Something tells me you’re going to have one hell of a vacation without me. Here,” I added, pulling out my wallet and digging around for my friend’s business card. “Maybe after you’ve torn up New York for a few days, you’ll decide to reroute to Sedona. Give Drake a call. He really knows his stuff.”

She took the card from my hand, flicking it around her fingers as she said, “I will. I promise.”

One of my brows raised as I added, “Although you strike me as someone who’s already well-schooled in this area.”

Charise grinned as she gave me a last peck on the cheek before jaunting across the patio and into the park.

My morning appointment was a bust, and my afternoon appointment wasn’t scheduled to be here for another two hours. Since now I had some time to kill, I decided to take a walk to clear my head. I asked Fernando to hold my table, then slipped out of the gated patio and into the courtyard.

There were a few high-end boutiques that bordered this end of the park, so I did a little window shopping. Eyed up a new suit in the display at Brooks Brothers; checked out a new watch in the front case of Tiffany’s. When my stomach started growling, I became aware of my abandoned lunch, and stopped off at a corner pushcart to get a dirty-water dog with the works.

I loved the city. New York was the best place in the world to test a person’s mettle. You could live out your every dream or disappear into a sea of faces. Do whatever you wanted to do; be whoever you wanted to be.

I headed back to Ocean and hit the men’s room to clean up before my next appointment, throwing a couple bucks in the attendant’s tray and giving a quick glance in the mirror as I ran a hand through my hair.

I wasn’t always this good-looking.

Before you can accuse me of being an arrogant, conceited jerk, I’ll tell you that the personal assessment of my handsomeness is mentioned without spectacle or vanity of any kind.

Well, maybe a little pride, but that’s it. And I’m only proud because it took a ton of hard work to get myself looking this way. Countless hours at the gym, consultations with fashion gurus, and a whole helluva lot of mental reprogramming all combined to create the man you see standing before you today.

Fact is, before I was one of the “beautiful people,” I used to view an attractive person with the same sort of indifference as I would an air balloon.

Pretty to look at, but there’s no substance to it.

Strange that I should’ve made my living as an image consultant, right? If I had such disregard for external beauty, then why did I make it my mission to help women achieve the height of theirs?

And no. Before you can ask, I’ll tell you emphatically that I did not start this whole venture as some elaborate scheme to pick up chicks. I’m not looking to hit on them. I’m looking to help them.

Unfortunately, the sad fact is this: I’ve been where these women are now. I know from firsthand experience what it’s like to be ignored or downright snubbed for not looking like those people you see on your television screens. Society as a whole has always been impressed with such superficial qualities in a person. Looking good is the easiest way to catch a guy’s eye, and if a woman is coming to me to help her land a man, she’s going to have to understand that men appreciate external beauty above all else.

At least they think they do.

That’s why the second part of my service is even more important than the first. Yes, I’ll whip your body into shape. Yes, I’ll hook you up with hair and makeup professionals. But while all that is happening, I’ll be working on your internal assets. Pointing out your positive attributes, trying to teach you how to use them to your advantage. Building your confidence in little baby steps until you’re ready to do it on your own.

At the end of it all, you’ll have reached a point where you don’t even need that spa-day makeover, but you’ll get it just the same. Although by then, it’ll merely be icing on an already delicious cake.




Author Bio


T. Torrest is a fiction writer from the U.S. She has written many books, but prays that only a handful of them will ever see the light of day. Her stories are geared toward readers of any age that know how to enjoy a good laugh and a dreamy romance.

Ms. Torrest was a child of the eighties, but has since traded in her Rubik's cube for a laptop and her Catholic school uniform for a comfy pair of yoga pants. She's a pop-culture junkie, a movie aficionado, and an enthusiast of talking about herself in the third person. A lifelong Jersey girl, she currently resides there with her husband and two sons.

She also really digs it when she hears from readers, and is known to use words like "dig" in a non-sarcastic way. You can find out more about her books at her website: https://www.ttorrest.com/ 

She also LOVES to get friend requests on Goodreads and Facebook, and personal messages from readers via email: ttorrest@optonline.net



Author Links





Giveaway














AP new - buy the book.jpg


Amazon   Nook   Kobo  iBooks




















Vaughn Johansson is the Nashville Assassins' star player. He's brash, cocky, and talented. And he isn't afraid to let anyone know it. He lives his life on his own terms, never forming romantic attachments, and only allowing his very closest to see his true, caring self.

Brie Soledad has the weight of the world on her shoulders. As the staff reporter for the Assassins, she balances her high-profile job and its heavy travel schedule with being the sole provider for her adult brother with Down syndrome. Sure, she'd like to find love. But who has time for that when there are bills to pay?

Brie has been the match to Vaughn's gasoline since the day she first held out her microphone to him. They strike sparks off each other, keeping their friends, the team, and the Assassins fans in stitches. Brie’s refusal to fawn over Vaughn sets his teeth on edge and his blood boiling. Especially in that body part...

Brie's been let down by love before, but she knows she deserves nothing less than real, forever love. Vaughn's past has left deep, hidden scars, and there are some secrets he cannot bear to reveal. As much as Brie wants him, Vaughn may be too big a risk for her wary heart to take. But he is at his best under pressure. When the delayed call is in effect and he has no choice but to score, Vaughn always delivers.









“I need help with a couch.”
“A couch?” Vaughn asked, sliding his feet into his tennis shoes as Jensen did the same.
“Yeah,” Shea said as they both followed him out. “Brie Soledad was telling Elli she wasn’t sure how she was going to get her couch up into her apartment because it won’t fit in the elevator, and I said I’d come help. I thought it wouldn’t be a problem, the doorman can help or something. But apparently, he’s on restriction from lifting shit, so that brings you two into this. Plus, this couch isn’t cheap, and it’s heavy.”
Hearing Brie’s name, Vaughn stopped, glaring. But Jensen pulled him along, shaking his head to keep him from saying anything. Which was probably the right call. Shea didn’t need to hear his drama, and also, there was the possibility of dropping the couch on her.
He didn’t mean that.
Okay, he did, but he didn’t want to kill her. Maybe just break her toe.
No one needs all their toes.
Well, she would if she wore those naughty red peep toe boots she had…
Rolling his eyes at his pathetic obsession with her, he looked at the ground as they rode the elevator down as Jensen said, “I don’t know why she didn’t hire someone to move her.”
Shea shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t think she has the money,” Vaughn found himself saying, and Jensen looked back at him.
“Don’t be a douche.”
“What? I meant that nicely,” he tried as the doors opened. His eyes landed on Brie, who was standing by a big-ass sofa, her arms crossed over her chest and her little chin up in the air. She didn’t want this, it was written on her face, but then, no one said no to Shea Adler.
Well, except Elli Adler.
And his daughters.
“Nothing you say is ever nice,” Jensen shot back as they got out, and Vaughn’s eyes met Brie’s. Heading toward her, Jensen called out, “Brie, I told you that you could call me to help.”
“I don’t ask for help very well. Elli had to ask Shea,” she admitted with a shrug. “Sorry about this.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, it’s only six floors worth of stairs, but who’s counting?” Vaughn joked.
Brie’s gaze cut to Vaughn’s. “I didn’t ask you to help.”
“Technically, you didn’t ask anyone, but here we all are.”
She glared, and he glared back as Jensen rolled his eyes. “They fight a lot.”
“Are they dating?” Shea asked.
“God, no,” Brie yelled, which made Vaughn scoff.
“She wishes.”
“Please.”
“No, thank you.”
“No? No, thank you, what?”
“No, I won’t date you,” he said calmly, which only made her face turn bright red as the rage settled in her eyes.
“You asshole, I was saying please because I wouldn’t date you if you were the last man on earth and I hadn’t been laid in years!”
Vaughn paused as Jensen shook his head and Shea looked on excitedly. “Well, that’s not nice. How dare you not want to help the world make a comeback? Do you not care for humankind? It would be our job to bring back the human race.”
“No, and I’d probably kill you just to make my point.”
Feigning shock, Vaughn held in his laughter as he accused, “You’re ruthless, Ms. Soledad.”
“You have no idea, JoHo.”










Watch the trailer HERE






   

























My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?


Author Links