Showing posts with label Release Day Blitz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Release Day Blitz. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Release Blitz: Risky Entaglement

Risky Entanglement by K. A. Harbron
Risky Series Book 2
Published October 2, 2018
Romantic Suspense

Synopsis:

We thought our love was invincible – we’re finding out just how wrong we were. The world has another plan for us and it involves tearing us apart at any cost – even murder. 

Andrea


He gives me everything I have ever wanted, but that doesn’t seem to be enough to keep us together. Doesn’t matter how hard I try, he is ripped from my life and from my heart. What do I do? Fight? Or Flight? Maybe I should just run from the terror that fills our lives now.


Robert

My life is spiraling out of control. I know I love Andrea, but can I give her up to save her? My love for her is destroying us both. The dream of a life we had together is slowly becoming the nightmare that unravels us for good. If you love something, set it free. Right?



You've heard from Andi and Rober. Meet Him…Will you survive?

Chapter 1

HIM (Burn baby burn)




“If she doesn’t hurry up, I’ll light it up myself.” I try to find Gina as she darts around the Kids for Keeps shelter sloshing gasoline in every direction. “Damn it, some precision would be nice. She’s going to have to do that side again.” Unbelievable. This never should have taken this long to start. Sitting in my blue Honda Civic across from Site 21 on the Carson property, rolling my finger over the barrel of the lighter, clicking it reflexively, I watch as the little minion reads my mind and corrects her errors in aim.
 “I don’t know what’s worse, watching her try to hurry, or how fucking sloppy she is,” I snarl, not that she can hear me, not that it would stop me from saying it to her face. She goes around the building again to destroy the evidence. Then I wait for her to get back in the car. I know I need to be patient. This is almost like an art form. It has to be done right. I flick the ash off my cigarette before I bring it to my mouth and take a long, satisfying drag. The smoke intermingles with the lyrics floating through the car. Shakin’ Hands by Nickelback.
Perfect fucking song for the upcoming events tonight.
Leaning back in in my seat, I watch as the shadows move outside the vehicle. The sun slides from the sky and drowns light into darkness. A chill from the outside ebbs into the car through the cracked window and raises the hair on my uncovered arms. The blur of a fast-moving shadow toward the back of the building causes my heart to skip even though I know who it is. I stare at the flames as they dance in the evening. With the wind increasing tonight, the smoke from the fire starts to funnel above the building quickly, the combustion eminent as embers start to spark taking flight on the breeze.
It may be cold outside, but lighting this bitch up will be a warming sight. A simple sacrifice. Two sacrifices actually, the building and the girl.
I have the perfect view. I can’t help but celebrate in how good it feels to watch the sparks. The building starts to hum with energy as flames start to lick the sides of the paneling.
That will make for an interesting burn pattern.
“Come on Red, if you don’t hustle you are going to be left here.” Slow as she is, it’s nice that I found someone who was so willing to please me; whether it’s mindless sex or blowing up a building. I watch as my assistant sprints from one side of the building to the other doubling back to be thorough. “Good girl. Pick up the pace.”
 If my window were open a bit more and the wind shifted, I would be able to smell the fumes – revenge and gasoline.
 I look behind me to make sure that there is still no traffic by foot or car passing through the lot’s entrance. There would be no way out or to hide if that happened, and that would definitely fuck with our plan. Debating on who would take interest at this time of evening, we could hypothetically knock them out until we finish, but then it would get messy with a witness.
Just my luck the whore would just show up at random on this site, wouldn’t she? Funny how she thinks it’s hers. This whole concept, this idea – it’s my site. How she ever thought she would get to take privilege in my ideas, my money and turn them into her own personal profit is infuriating. Andrea being a part of this whole cyclone of fucked up, is about to come to an end. Her days where she rides free off my accomplishments are numbered. I don’t care who she is. This isn’t something she gets to claim. It’s mine. If I have to watch her and MY projects go up in smoke and flames — I will.
“Fucking, thieving, women.” Muttering under my breath, I roll down the window and wave the red haired accomplice over to the car to get in. We can’t be here any longer, done or not. She gets in the car, her body and clothes smell of gasoline, wood damage and singed flesh from electrical burns. Huffing she tries to regain control of her breath. Turning toward me, she waits for my response and next instructions expectantly.
She’s such an obedient girl, nothing like Andrea — she was like a wild untamable bitch. That slut couldn’t take a command to save her life. Complete disobedience. This one is like a dog ready to whelp.
She is a vapid girl compared to Andrea, but at least she is compliant. Of course that’s how Andrea would suck you in – she’d blind you to her ways and play with your feelings. Everything to her — a seduction game, even if it wasn’t hers to seduce. Now I get to repay the favor.
Finally deciding to address the expectant woman in my car, I nod and blow smoke onto her lap. She may be too submissive. Waiting on for me to give her the go ahead — like the lapdog she is. Who wouldn’t lose interest in something so willing?
“You went all the way around the property correct? There is no chance that any of 21’s corners won’t catch on to the burn?” stating more than asking the question, I adjust my ball cap reflexively.
She nods her head in affirmation — her eyes are glossy with excitement. I pull out one of my smokes, light it, and give it to her. She takes it graciously as if it’s a gift of diamonds.
“Good girl, Cupcake. I’m proud of you.” I nod once in approval. “What about the car? Did you put the rest of the rags and containers under it?”
“Actually, I did one better. I doused the whole car and used some paint I found around back to help the flames stick. I even put those extra gel canisters under her car. It’s totally gonna blow up big time.”
“I don’t appreciate any deviations from our plan; G, it’s essential that you don’t change anything,” I grumble as I scrub my face. We don’t need to add anything to this. Simple. Get the job done. Get in. Get out. With the smoke really increasing the haze from the ash, the ease to breathe is getting harder even from inside the car. We need to go. Starting the car and reversing, we start to pull away from the ball of fire. The sound of sirens will be filling the air shortly.
“It’s almost pretty,” she says as she watches our work light the sky. The luminosity coming off the building as it progresses in its fiery death, appears as if it’s a lighthouse against a black sea. Even the shadows remind me of a sleeping dragon inhaling its breath. As if a beast is dreaming, about to be shaken awake from the deepest of sleeps.
 I can’t help but smile with anticipation. Proud that we took from them, thrilled that the Kids for Keeps building ignited so quickly. “Ashes, ashes, they will all fall down.” I hum.



Author Bio:


K.A. Harbron is the coffee addicted mastermind behind the suspenseful, slow burn Risky Series. Writing contemporary novels with a twist, you will never start a book and not want to finish it.


If you asked K.A. what her greatest joys are in life, she would tell you first and foremost would be her kiddo, with a close second in creating worlds through her writing. When it’s time to wind down, K.A. Harbron spends her time running, reading, playing at playgrounds, and enjoying shows like Grey’s Anatomy.


Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17485426.K_A_Harbron

Release Day Blitz: Definition of Redemption



Definition of Redemption by Lia Peele
Definition of Book 3
Published October 2, 2018
Contemporary/Erotica

Synopsis: 



They were the perfect couple until the day they became the perfect survivors ... 

Scarlett
Six years after suffering two devastating losses Scarlett is on the road to taking her business to another level. For all the things that are going well in her life, her intimate relationships haven’t moved to a level that satisfies her physical and emotional needs.
Putting it simply her personal life sucks. There’s nothing wrong with it, exactly. On the surface everything looks cool but appearances can be deceiving. In Scarlett’s case, they definitely are.

Dev
Walking away from the love of his life shatters Dev into a million pieces. Forced to examine his lifestyle, he transforms his attitude and rebuilds himself from the ground up. Opting to live outside the glare of the spotlight, fate intervenes with an early morning phone call that changes the direction of his life yet again.

Scarlett and Dev exist in the separate worlds they created to recover from their obsession with each other. It hasn’t been easy but it works for them.
Everything changes the day a lucrative business contract with a not-yet-revealed financial source complicates the deal of a lifetime for Scarlett and her organization.
When she discovers who’s behind the life-changing opportunity, her worlds collide and force her to confront what she thought was long gone.
Can she find a way forward? More to the point, does she want to?


** Definition of Redemption is book three in the Scarlett and Dev saga and it should be read after Definition of Craving. The Definition series has its roots in the contemporary erotic romance genre. It therefore contains sex and adult language. You've been warned ... just saying! *** 




After Scarlett/March 2012 

A loud groan wakes me with a start, launching me into the day with a ‘Hell, yeah, get the fuck out of bed’ kind of attitude. It was just me groaning. Nothing new there. My sleeping-self insists on a vicarious existence, remembering everything my lucid-self needs to put behind him for the sake of his sanity.
Nothing good has ever come of looking back. Until Scarlett, that was my mantra. Today though, I’ve got a feeling that my subconscious is way ahead of me. That’s why it woke me from a sleep I wasn’t enjoying.
Turning onto my back, I stretch my full length in the King-size bed, smoothing a hand over the empty space beside me. Scarlett’s place. Or it was until I fucked everything up just by being me.
Twelve months ago today we reconnected after a six-year break. Only the break wasn’t from me, it was from my dad. May as well have been me though, because she never knew I loved her back then.
The sound of my ringtone interrupts my meandering thoughts. I’m grateful it did because they were on the verge of taking me back to that place and I can’t let that happen. Not when I’ve spent the last six months recovering from the stench of Demeter’s toxicity.
Squinting at my phone, the lit up screen reveals it’s just after 10 am and I didn’t get to bed until 3 am. That’s one of the drawbacks of managing a club.
“Yeah,” I croak, wanting to stick my head under the covers and get back to sleep.
“Hello, is that Mr Dev Jackson?” the female voice on the other end of the phone asks.
This’d better not be a call centre. I wanna say, “You’re ringing me, shouldn’t you already know who it is?” but instead I play polite, answering, “Yep. How can I help?”
“I’m calling from the Royal Victoria Infirmary in Newcastle. Mr Robert Taylor was brought in earlier this morning and your contact details were found in his wallet identifying you as his next of kin. You need to come here right away, Mr Jackson.”
She pauses while I hold my breath in my throat, my heart galloping in anticipation of her next words.
“Hold on, please. Let me get this straight. Bob is in hospital and … what’s the matter with him?”
“I’m afraid I can’t discuss the situation over the telephone, but if you come to Intensive Care, we can elaborate then.”
Panic grips me and shakes my shoulders. “Whoa, hang on a second. I’m in Brighton, so I’m hours away. What’s wrong with him? Can’t you tell me?” Switching the phone to speaker, I dash through to the bathroom and turn the shower on.
She ignores my question and instead asks another, “How long will it take you to get here?”
Soaping down, I shout over the sound of the water, “I’m not sure. I’ll have to check the train timetable.”
“I see. All I can tell you is that he’s comfortable, but do whatever you can to get here as soon as possible.”
I know she isn’t gonna give me anything else so I click off, soap off, and dry off.
What the hell? He looked fine when he stayed with me last month. We went for a walk along the pier and he managed that just fine. Yeah, he looked tired when we Skyped a couple of days ago, but when I asked, he brushed it off.
Fuck. I should’ve pressed harder, put more pressure on him. This sounds bad and it has my heart battering against my ribs.
Teeth cleaned and a zap of deodorant later, I quickly stuff my essentials into a small suitcase.
Looking around the small flat, I take a second to gather my thoughts. First thing I need to do is to call my deputy manager. I’ll need someone to cover for me.
“Jeez, you’re up early, Dev. S’up?”
“Hey, Ash, need a favour, mate. I’ve had some bad news. Gotta go back to Newcastle. My grandad’s ill.” He doesn’t need to know Bob is my ex-upstairs neighbour.
“You need me to fill in?”
“Yeah, not sure how long I’ll be, but it sounds bad. The hospital wouldn’t tell me.”
“Just go Dev. Taboo’ll be fine. You know that.”
“Yeah, I do.” I glance at my watch. “Catch you later. I’ll be in touch.”
I hang up and check the train timetable on my phone. There’s one in thirty minutes so I lock up and almost run the ten-minute walk from Taboo to the train station.
It’s a five-plus hour trip so I’ll have plenty of time to persecute myself for not insisting Bob should visit the doctor.
To think that all I wanted to do today was place the booze orders and spend the afternoon at the gym in an effort to knock Scarlett out of my head. I wonder if she remembers it’s been a year.
Even if she does, she’d probably rather forget.

* * *

I squeeze his hand, hoping he can hear me. “Remember that time you, me and Ethel went to Whitley Bay for ice cream? We queued for ages, didn’t we? When we eventually got them, there was so much pecan ice cream on Ethel’s cornet it fell on the pavement and she stormed off in a huff.”
He can’t answer me. He’s unconscious, hooked up to a machine that’s keeping him alive. It’s fucking terrible seeing him lying in the hospital bed looking so frail and grey, with a body that’s shrunk in on itself. It’s as though it’s rehearsing for imminent departure.
When I arrived, they told me he’d had a heart attack in the Post Office. I was thankful he was surrounded by people when he collapsed. If it’d happened at home, he could’ve lain there for days on his own.
I explained that I’m his pseudo-grandson and not his next of kin. After travelling practically the length of the country with just my thoughts for company, I showed them my ID and they finally let me in.
Watching him now, machines helping him to breathe and tubes down his throat, I feel helpless. They said he hasn’t got long. Bob’s life can be measured in minutes but I need more than minutes to tell him everything I wanna tell him.
When I was a raggy-arsed nineteen-year-old I bought the flat downstairs from him and Ethel, with no budget to renovate it. Bob taught me patience and a few DIY tricks. Ethel fed me home cooking.
He instilled integrity into me and showed me how a gentleman behaves around women. Ethel used to say she fell in love with Bob when he stood up to give her his seat on the bus.
His shoulder was the one I needed when I fucked everything up with Scarlett.
He did all that, and so much more, for me and I never even told him how much I loved him. Not properly, anyway. I should add selfish fucker to my never-ending list of defective traits.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I wrap my hand around his and lift it to my face. He’s freezing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, the way you were for me. You know I love you and Ethel, don’t you?”
Bob also taught me that real men show their emotions and I should never be ashamed of shedding a few tears. He’d be proud of me now because they’re streaming down my face.
“When you get better, you can take me to the tea dance at the British Legion Club and show me your moves. What d’you say to—”
The alarm sounds on the monitor and it seems like the entire hospital rushes in. I stand back while they work, but I know this is it for Bob.
It’s the first time I’ve seen someone die and it’s fucking horrific.


Author Bio: 

Lia Peele is a British author from the North East of England. 

She’s my alter ego; a creation of my imagination. I resigned from my job so she can write steamy adult contemporary romance. This means I can hide behind her, and she’s given free rein to set my smutty thoughts free.
Author Links:
Facebook Lia's Lair reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/LiasLair/
Book Sprout: https://booksprout.co/publisher/books

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Release Day Blitz:Definition of Craving

Definition of Craving by Lia Peele
Definition Series Book 2
Published August 21, 2018
Contemporary/Erotica

Synopsis:

They could have it all ... if the others let him go. 

Scarlett Trent is a woman who is in control. She’s a successful business owner, a contender for the North East Businesswoman of the Year Award, and a woman of means. She knows who she is, what she wants, and where she’s headed. That is, until one extremely handsome distraction… someone from her past … throws her heart and mind into a tailspin. 

Dev Jackson is the embodiment of alpha male. He’s got nothing to prove; it’s there in his smile, his attitude, his swagger. He sees life through a rainbow coloured lens and that’s just fine with Scarlett. Life wasn’t always easy for him. He’s known hardship and experienced bigotry at close hand. The creator of three identities, managing three successful careers, he’s making sure he’ll never return to those days. 

When they reconnect, Scarlett shows him how to be simply Dev, and they soon become each other’s favourite pastime. 

Together they’re stamping their souls into a relationship that fits. Their obsession with each other grows stronger every day but Dev’s past constantly tests them, especially when the mysterious Demeter won’t leave him alone. 

He wants to move on with Scarlett. His past won’t let him.

The people he left in his wake? They can’t let him go. Don’t want to let him go. 

And these people? They’ll go to any length to persuade him to stay. 

Will his past indiscretions drive a wedge between them or will their undeniable passion keep them together?




Demeter Green


I’m so disappointed. Gutted, would be the more appropriate word but it’s so uncouth and I don’t know … colloquial? I don’t know how or when they reunited, but they did. After lunch on Easter Sunday, I paid him a visit and heard them rutting like animals in the shower.

How could he? Why go back to her? Why does she have what I want, and with such little effort? It’s not fair. I was certain they’d ended it a couple of weeks ago and when he didn’t turn up at the airport, it confirmed it. That’s when I started to make plans to share a future with him.

Scarlett’s intrusion causes problems I hadn’t anticipated but it adds a frisson of excitement I’m addicted to. I get a thrill out of knowing I’m right next to them, but they have no idea.

I’m the beanie-hat-wearing person sitting close by in the restaurant.

I’m the glasses-wearing shadow slinking behind them as they visit the gym.

I’m the anonymous nobody watching their every move.

My disguises make me invisible. They’re the tools of my trade.

I think I’ve always been invisible to him.

Unfortunately, thanks to her, it looks as though I’ve got a little longer to wait. It doesn’t matter because I’ve been hiding in plain sight since watching him perform at Taboo in December.

What they don’t know is I’ve been here before with Carl Atkinson so I’ve got the willpower and the knowledge. They won’t find me until I want them to.

Following Carl wasn’t as much fun as I thought it’d be. I was smitten by him the first time he appeared on Geordie Bay but he threatened legal action if I insisted on contacting him.

I mean, really? Legal action? He’s a reality TV celeb. Surely any attention is better than no attention. As soon as I saw Adrian, I knew it was over with Carl and made the switch.

Now that I’m gone, I wonder if he misses me. 




About the Author:

Lia Peele is a British author from the North East of England. 

She’s my alter ego; a creation of my imagination. I resigned from my job so she can write steamy adult contemporary romance. This means I can hide behind her, and she’s given free rein to set my smutty thoughts free.

http://www.liapeele.co.uk
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLiaPeele/
https://www.facebook.com/groups/290905658085741/
https://twitter.com/LiaPeeleAuthor
https://www.instagram.com/liapeele/?hl=en
https://plus.google.com/105564308427814389169/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17298601.Lia_Peele_Contemporary_Erotic_Romance_Author
https://www.pinterest.co.uk/liapeele/pins
https://bookandmainbites.com/LiaPeele
https://www.bookbub.com/profile/lia-peele

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Lia-Peele/e/B0776F5VTW/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1
http://liapeele.allauthor.com/


Wednesday, August 1, 2018

Release Day Blitz: Allergic Reaction

Allergic Reaction by T. A. Moorman
Published August 1, 2018 by GothicMoms Studios
A Paranormal Short with an HEA

Blurb:

After meeting her boyfriend’s family and things go off without a hitch, Miranda decides it's the perfect time that he meet hers. She's excited to show off her perfect boyfriend to her adopted family. And what better time than when everyone will be together on Easter? But, things start going downhill before they even walk through the front door.

Antonio has found his long-awaited mate, Miranda. Only problem, she's human. And he hasn't had the perfect time to tell her that he's actually a tiger shifter just yet. When she takes him home to meet her family, he soon learns he isn't the only one who's been keeping secrets from her. The fact that her Dad is allergic to cats certainly doesn't help Antonio keep his.

Easter dinner may end up being a complete disaster if Miranda realizes there's only one human at the table.


Be sure to attend the FB Event for plenty of games & prizes!

Excerpt:

After going a few more rounds with Mildred, and Mom threatening both of us to stop, I grabbed a snack tray from the kitchen like she told me to. When I went back to grab some cans of pop she said to me, “Make sure you get your boyfriend some milk. I’m sure he’d like some.”

“Mom. Will you can it with the cat talk?”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me young lady!” she said as I made my escape from the kitchen.

I don’t know what I was in such a hurry for. When I stepped back into the living room the tension in there was so palpable I thought I was going to have to go back in the kitchen and get a butcher knife to cut through it.

Millie sat over in the corner where she conveniently pretended to watch the tv, but in actuality she just watched Dad and Antonio do their level best to not look at each other. Upon closer inspection I saw that Dad was watching tv, and also glancing at Antonio out the corner of his eye. And I think he was growling at him; it was so low in his throat that I could have been mistaken. I don’t know if Antonio even payed any attention to what was on the screen, but his left leg shook so bad his entire body seemed to vibrate.

They jumped a little and looked guilty as sin of something when I dropped the tray down onto the table. None of them had even noticed me walk in, “Don’t everybody speak at once.” When I went to sit down on the couch closer to Antonio than Dad, Antonio put his arm around my shoulder, and yes, Dad growled, “Daddy, is there some reason you’re growling at my boyfriend? And what is that smell?” I hadn’t gotten a whiff of anything until just then. But there was an almost visible aroma coming from my dad that reminded me of my old medicine cabinet that my parents kept stocked year-round.

“I was not growling, must just have something caught in my throat.” Was Dad’s throaty, baritone reply. His was the kind of voice that sent chills up a kid’s spine and put fear in their heart when caught doing something bad growing up, trust me. “Hope it wasn’t a hairball.” Antonio choked out a small laugh at that. “That smell is all the Vick’s I got rubbed all in and around my nostrils and upper lip. I’m hoping that and all the pills your mother just shoved down my throat can curtail whatever has my allergies afflux.”

“And what on earth are you watching?” I finally looked up at the flatscreen hanging up over the fireplace mantle to see a bunch of tigers running in the wild. Since Dad was the one holding the remote at that point he must have been the one to pick out the show. But I don’t remember ever seeing him even glance at the Discovery Channel before. “Oh my God, what did he just do to that reindeer?”

“Oh, sweetie, we were just discussing how aggressive tigers are, so I decided to pull this up to prove my point.” Came Dad’s reply.

Which Antonio countered with, “We were also talking about the fact that a pack of wolves could be considered even more aggressive and unpredictable. Just so happened that this episode featured tigers and not wolves.”

Mildred bust out laughing in her chair. Before I could ask her what she found so funny, she jumped out of her seat saying, “I’ma go see if Mom needs any help with dinner.”



About The Author:


When you become a Mom, you begin to put yourself last, and your combat boots begin to collect dust. Going to your child's PTA meetings in full Gothic, especially industrial, regalia is pretty much frowned upon. Especially by your own children, and your teens would die of a heart attack. But, one should not have to completely stop being themselves, uniqueness is greatness. So all of that darkness is put into words in her books, and designs in her jewelry sold in her Gothic Moms Dark Charms shop on Etsy and Rebels Market.

Single mother of five beautiful children, but by far more than just that. T. A. Moorman is an artist, a former violinist, a seamstress, a crafter, a writer, a blogger, a reviewer, a dark confidant and a darkly dangerous, fiercely protective friend. She still hopes to one day find her Dark Knight in shining armor, since Prince Charming would never be able to handle her. And currently broke, so go buy something of hers and tell everyone you know how much you love this book.

Author Links:


a Rafflecopter giveaway
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...