Monday, 7 March 2016

Blog Tour - Snared by LL Collins @authorllcollins

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BEAU has never known a good life, only the torment that lives inside his head every day. The only way to block out the darkness that shrouds him is through the rhythmic beat of his drums. Knowing what happens when he opens up to anyone, Beau buries his pain deep inside, keeping it all to himself.

APRIL has lived a life of wealth and privilege, full of love and support. Her only insight into what it's like to have a rough life is through her work with foster children. When she meets Beau, it starts as a challenge to get through to him but quickly turns into much more than either of them bargained for.

TOGETHER, they are mismatched, ill-fated, and COMBUSTIBLE. But when their connection is challenged by the collision of past, present, and future, will they be snared by love...or circumstances?

 it was amazing
* * ARC given on behalf of obsessed by books for an honest review * *

I loved this book so much, I couldn't put it down. I loved these characters and the flow of the story.
Beau is a broken soul with such strength and April is an amazing character she is exactly what Beau needs, she pushes him and gives him strength. I loved this emotional read.

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I perched on the chair next to him. He started tapping on his legs again, and I moved my hands so they were over his. He immediately stopped. “Show me.” His hands were still for a few beats too long, and I figured he wasn’t going to do it. I was about to move when he put the drumsticks in my hands and began moving, tapping a rapid beat I’d never remember.
I turned my head so I could watch his face as he played my hands with his drumsticks. With my face so close to his, I was able to study the tattoos on his neck, the short dark hair on his beard, his nose ring, and his incredible eyes. They were so dark they looked black, but they were the one part of him that showed expression.
His hands stilled as he realized how close I was to his face. Beau slightly turned my way. My hands were still under his, clutching his drumsticks like they were the last lifeline I had. They just might’ve been. My eyes scanned his flawless face. He had the most beautiful skin, and I wanted to touch him again. My eyes flitted to his lips. God, what it would be like to press my lips to his, I could only imagine.
“Did you…keep your drumsticks?” I felt his warm breath against my lips, and I shuddered. Tingles spread from my spine down to my toes and back again, making goose bumps break out on my skin. I wanted nothing more than to grab him and show him exactly why he should want to get to know me better.
I licked my dry lips and nodded my head. “O-of course. I told you I’d save them forever.”
He nodded. His thumbs caressed my hands and I froze, wondering if he knew what he was doing and afraid if I moved he would realize it and stop.
“You’re so handsome.” My legs shook as adrenaline coursed through my body. “There’s nothing better than seeing you doing what you love.”
Beau’s eyes searched mine as if trying to read into what I said. Of course, he didn’t believe me. Why would he? I knew from experience kids who had been abandoned never quite got over the belief that nothing they did was good enough or would bring back the people they loved. He was no different.
But I had to keep my mouth shut because that’s what had gotten me into trouble before with him.
I wanted nothing more than to kiss Beau, to show him with my mouth what I couldn’t say in words. But I was terrified of what his reaction would be, and after the stress I’d been under over Robbie, I didn’t think my fragile psyche could handle one more thing.
One of Beau’s hands moved, and I knew the moment was over. He’d want me to get away from him now. But instead, I felt his hand touch the side of my face like I’d done to him on the rooftop deck.
“You...” Beau cleared his throat. I could physically see how hard this was for him to do. “April.” It came out a strained whisper, like it physically pained him to say my name. I didn’t want him to hurt because of me.
“It’s okay,” I said, putting my hand over his on my face. “You don’t have to talk. Just know I’m here, all right?”
He shook his head, moving his hand and entwining our fingers together. Then he shocked the hell out of me and kissed my palm, his eyes never leaving mine. “You...smell incredible,” he whispered against my skin. “You’re…beautiful. So beautiful.” If I hadn’t been listening to every syllable like they were the last sounds I’d ever hear, I might’ve missed what he said.
But I’d heard every damn one of them.
Beau stood, his fingers still linked with mine. He leaned over and brushed his lips against my cheek, stopping at my ear. “Stay after the show.” He dropped my hand and stepped around me, but I was frozen in place. Desire pulsed through my body like nothing I’d ever experienced before, and the biggest smile broke across my face.
Beau Anderson had kissed my hand. And my cheek. He’d asked me to stay after the show.
I thought my head just might explode right off my body.


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LL Collins is the self published author of the bestselling Living Again Series, including Living Again, Reaching Rachel, Guarding Hearts, Finding Forever, and Breaking Free: A Living Again Novella, all available now.

LL has been writing since she was old enough to write. Always a story in her head, she finally decided to let the characters out and start writing and try to make her lifelong dreams of becoming an author come true. She has been a teacher for over ten years and lives in Florida with her husband and two sons.

Author Links

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Into the Rain by Michelle Irwin

Title: Into the Rain
Series: Daughter of Fire - Book Three
Author: Michelle Irwin
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: Feb 28th, 2016

Evie Meyers and Clay Jacobs have found paradise in the remote wilderness. Hidden away at the ends of the Earth, they are certain no one can find them. The illusion is shattered when Evie’s former lover Aiden crashes into their sanctuary.

The tension caused by the fae’s arrival escalates when they discover the reason for his presence. An ever-present foe has kidnapped someone precious to his court, and he needs Clay’s help for the rescue. The mission will take them straight into the Rain. The path is a dangerous one, filled with dark secrets and old lies.

With echoes of the past surrounding them and a shadowed threat lurking nearby, both Evie and Clay must put their trust in the hands of an enemy. How will they find a way to reconcile their prejudices and make it out alive?

Amazon US:
Amazon UK:
Amazon AU:

~~Other Books in the Series~~

Through the Fire (Book One)
US | UK | AU

Rise from Ash (Book Two)
US | UK | AU

Crossover Companion Series:

Son of Rain Series

Besieged by Rain (Book One)
US | UK | AU

Among the Debris (Book Two)
US | UK | AU

RELEASE BLITZ : A Leap In The Dark : Assassin's of Youth MC by Layla Wolfe

Title: A Leap in the Dark
Series: Assassins of Youth MC #2
Author: Layla Wolfe
Genre: MC Romance
 Release Date: March 7, 2016


"I look forward to the next in the series. Congratulations to Layla. In my opinion, this was her best book." ~ Kaz, Triple Bs Book Blog

"Absolutely brilliant read and i can't wait to see what comes next and whether the Assassins will manage to take down the fundies!!" ~ Booklover, One Click Aholics

"I LOVED A Leap in the Dark. And, now I can’t wait for the next book in this series." ~ Tanya, Tasty Wordgasms


Kiss slowly. Play hard.

Oaklyn: That arrogant, loathsome bastard had the nerve to move to Avalanche. Levon left behind his empire of sleaze to invade the tiny, sleepy town I’d decided to call home. I wanted to get away from smut and abuse and into a fresh, innocent place where nobody knew my name, only to be followed right into my very house by the King of Corruption himself.

I could handle it if he was physically gruesome. But he struts around with his muscles bulging and his cornflower blue eyes sparkling. I’m a nurse, a practical, sensible gal. But when Levon needs my help, I put away my pride and come running. And he’s going to need a lot of help to go up against the dirtbag Avalanche mayor, blackmailing him with his shameful past.

Levon: She’s proud, conceited, and holier-than-thou, everything I hate in a woman. But maybe it’s been too long since I had one, because when she steps up to the plate to help me, I’m doomed. I had to knock her down a few pegs once she knew I wanted her. Joining the Assassins of Youth motorcycle club and giving Oaklyn a few sessions over my knee just seemed to increase her yearning, though.

She’s a sizzling hot tornado of a woman. I need her to fight back against the fucking corrupt politicians in this town we’re trying to transform. I might have come from a sordid, disgraceful background. But I’m determined to move into the light and the purity that will make this town great. 

Publisher’s Note: This is a full-length, standalone novel with a HEA and no cliffhanger. Possible triggers include male prostitution, sexual abuse, gun running, and crooked municipal blackmail.

Purchase Links


“My parents, along with almost every other Lost Boys’ parents. Every parent who threw their son to the wolves. This is why a lot of us learn to feel no emotion. I’m usually pretty emotionless, which is why I’m thinking maybe I can deal with Gideon’s work inside the compound. Yesterday I had to face this Parley Pipkin assbite who was one of the men in on the ass-kicking I received from Zelpha Pratt’s dad. Like it takes ten men to kick the ass of one teenager. I did all right, staring him in the fucking face.”

“You refrained from shooting him, anyway. That’s admirable.”

I hadn’t told anyone other than Gideon about Ladell Pratt yet. Deloy probably suspected that he was one of my tormentors, but was polite enough not to bring it up. “Fifteen years of controlling my emotions has taught me well. That’s why I like your scientific way of looking at things. We have more in common than you might suspect. Emotion is a defect in a perfectly logical machine.”

“No, no, not at all,” she cried, loud enough for Nana to hear. I moved closer to her, taking her by the upper arms to guide her into the shadows of the kitchen wall, farther from Nana’s bedroom. “Reason alone, without human emotion, has created more wretchedness than a zealot’s crusade.”

“You haven’t lived in Cornucopia.”

“Watching a Shakespeare performance informs us more about the nature of jealousy, how it can infiltrate a man’s life and ruin his marriage, than any textbook ever could. Harriet Beecher Stowe helped rouse society against slavery more powerfully than any spreadsheet. Dickens did more to prevent child abuse and institutional atrocity than any welfare society report.”

I had to agree with her, because literature had replaced emotion in my life. I could feel through works of art, music, and writing. I allowed myself to feel outrage and indignation on their behalf—maybe because they were “made up” works of art, and somewhat remotely removed from my own carefully guarded cage of feelings. “Well, yes. Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ is still played in about five hundred languages in ten billion elevators throughout the world. I’m sure it’s managed to soothe many a savage beast. The photo of the napalmed Vietnamese girl or Dorothea Lange’s Dust Bowl photos still resonate in people’s hearts. Oaklyn, you don’t need to convince me. I feel deeply through others’ creations. It’s just my real life where I have trouble knowing how to feel.”

“And that’s where you’ll miss out. You have to feel direct confrontations with people. There’s no sense in having pity for people if you’re being ruled by performance and profit. There’s no point in being charitable if you’re really not experiencing the compassion directly like a stab to your heart. I have a shitty boyfriend, I’ll be the first to admit that. But at least we have passion. We fight with passionate anger in our hearts.”

“That’s useless to me,” I said. It sounded heartless even as I said it. When had I become such a callous, insensitive jerk? “I’ve had no close relationships with anyone in my life—ever. Not since Zelpha Pratt.”

“You mean romantic. But you love your men.”

I stood tall and proud. “I love my men like a protective mother hen. But passion with a woman? Nothing. At least you have that with your idiotic boyfriend.” It irritated me that she had even an idiotic boyfriend. I’d grown close to her the past week, strange to say. We sort of fit together like hand in glove, though I knew she loathed me for my business practices. I was used to that. I’d been denounced for my field of work for a long time now. It was only because we serviced such a large denomination of pious men and women in the community that no one had harassed us to move.

She said, “Decisions such as whom to fall in love with, how to discipline a teenager, which beloved things to sacrifice, which dreams to follow or abandon—all of these choices should be made with emotion ruling, not wiped out and deadened by your logical thinking. If I let myself be ruled by logic, I’d never have hooked up with my worthless Italian boyfriend.”

“And that’s a good thing?” I scoffed.

She shrugged. “I’m actually trying to get rid of him. Emotion keeps drawing me back to him. But you see what I mean? You’re missing out on such a broad array of human experiences if you don’t go through any of those things.”

I was getting riled, maybe with the more Jim Beam I drank. “You don’t understand. I was kicked out of the bosom of my family. I was told that I was a thing, a bother, an inconvenience. I was a miniscule number in a perpetual multitude of numbers—an ‘it,’ not even an ‘I.’”

She folded her hands in front of her soberly, though she had drank as much as I had. “I understand. You won’t let yourself feel because that would dredge up all those angry, bitter feelings.”

“But I am angry and bitter! ‘Angry and Bitter’ is my middle name! It washes over me time and time again, trapping me in my bitterness, my rage, my inability to even remotely forgive anyone connected to that incident.”

“You have to learn to forgive, Levon, or else you can’t move on. Don’t you want to marry and have a regular wife? One that wasn’t chosen for you by some moldy old elders? Don’t you want to feel regular, normal passion and love for a woman—a woman you chose yourself?”

I don’t know what the fuck came over me. All at once, I knew I had something to prove to Oaklyn. Suddenly her waist under the furry jacket looked so small, so fragile, like she needed my big hands around it. When I grabbed her, she jumped, as though I was going to hurt her. She held onto my forearms as I lifted her onto the deck railing. She was so fucking light, with bones like a little bird! I parted her thighs with my massive ones, feeling like an ancient tree next to a swaying birch. I touched the tip of my nose to hers, and she didn’t try to pull away.

“I might not know romantic feelings,” I murmured, “but I know that sex can masquerade for emotions of that type.”

And I kissed her.

I gave it my all, letting my usual rage and indignation stand in for passion. I bit her pouty, full lips over and over again until I felt the breath of her sighs against my mouth. Her entire body did a full melt, and she even wrapped her ankles around the back of my knees.

Something happened during that wild kiss. My asshole self, who had never even really felt a passionate sexual urge—it was strictly business with all of us—began to cave in. Just like Oaklyn was folding up, dissolving like a sinkhole beneath my onslaught. Some of the walls I’d built up carefully over fifteen years began to dissolve. I could almost feel it, at the edges of my awareness, like a curtain someone was lifting on the two of us.

Like a spotlight shining on us coupling there on the deck railing, I began to feel like the star of our show. Only there were two of us, because it wasn’t just me performing like a trained seal. This was a woman who wasn’t my client. I was voluntarily licking her lips of my own free will. My cock was burgeoning, swelling against the wood railing, just an inch from her pussy. It made a giant tent in the loose lounging pants I wore, but I wasn’t embarrassed. Real feelings rushed through my lungs. Every breath I snorted against her cheek, every intake of air was like breathing true, real emotion.

I didn’t hate Oaklyn. I sort of even liked her.

My hands moved up her ribcage, felt her bony shoulders, cradled her strong jaw. Of course I never kissed clients, so I hadn’t kissed a woman in a year, maybe even two. It just wasn’t in my wheelhouse—I didn’t have the time. So feeling the true, hot, aroused sensuality of a woman beneath my very palms, well, it was a fucking turn-on.

But I knew I had to break away. I was good at doing that.

“There,” I panted triumphantly, as if I’d just solved some equation on a whiteboard. Oaklyn looked at me wide-eyed with wonder, her lower lip shining as though stung by a bee. She clearly didn’t know what to say or maybe even how to feel, so I helped her out. “How’s that for emotional turmoil?”

I was going to stalk off jubilantly, but Oaklyn beat me to it.

She leaped from the railing, shoving me out of the way. She stormed off for a few steps, but then thought better of it, and twirled back to face me. “You! Levon Rockwell. You’re the most infuriating, contrary man on the face of the planet!”

Then she stormed off. I saw her go into the kitchen and grab the bottle of Jim Beam off the counter without missing a beat, then continue to her room.

Infuriating. I liked that. It meant I was getting to her.

Then I wondered why I wanted to get to her.

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Author Bio

Bestselling author Layla Wolfe likes to bring you alpha males--sometimes two at a time--and the kick-ass women who love them. Her BARE BONES MC series explores the dark, disturbing life of the biker club in Arizona. Her spinoff series THE BENT ZEALOTS MC is a gritty MM saga. She is currently at work on Book One of THE ASSASSINS OF YOUTH MC, another spinoff set in Utah.

Layla Wolfe is the pen name of multi-published erotic romance author Karen Mercury.