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Tuesday, 30 August 2016
HINGED : BK. 2 A SOUL MATE RESCUED NOVEL by Char Sharp
Title: Hinged {Book 2, A Soul Mate Rescued Novel}
Author: Char Sharp
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: November 21st, 2016
Cover Artist: By Hang Le
***
She can’t remember him.
He’ll never forget her.
When Robin Finch is abducted and tortured by an evil cybercriminal, her salvation comes in an unlikely hero, Dr. Ramsey Gunn. Gunn, a medical doctor and a computer genius, carried a long-festering secret love for Robin from afar, which placed her dead center on the enemy’s radar. Developing amnesia after enduring her captor’s sadistic torture and a blow to her head, Robin has no memory of her previous life. Dr. Gunn rescues Robin away from their captor and goes off the grid to keep her safe for years. But Dr. Ramsey Gunn may not be the savior he claims to be.
Upon his return from deployment, Navy SEAL Cooper Baron discovers his fiancé missing and presumed dead. Not believing she’s dead and hell-bent on discovering the truth about Robin’s disappearance, he will stop at nothing until she is back in his arms. Through the long years, searching for her in every woman’s face, he’s determined to locate the woman he lost. But finding Robin may put her in more danger than she’s ever faced before. Can Cooper’s love help her restore her memories without forcing her to confront the horrific reality of her abduction?
Once the reality is known, can their love survive the truth?
***
Char Sharp writes contemporary romantic suspense novels with a touch of mystery. Her main objective is to entertain and enthrall her readers by writing emotionally romantic suspense stories with protective alpha heroes and strong feisty heroines.
An avid reader, writing started in college with poems and short stories and has morphed into her true passion—novels. She loves to listen to her characters and tell their stories. Char studied music and business at Troy University, and with her love of music, she enjoys weaving a little music into her writing. She is a member of Romance Writers of America.
Char and her husband are the proud parents and grandparents of three grown children and five grandsons. She lives in the northern suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia USA with her husband, and a Ragdoll cat named Purrcy. Retired from the computer software industry, Char enjoys more time to write and also play with her grandsons.
***
RELEASE BLITZ : SEAL OF SOLOMON (Journeyman series 2) by Golden Czermak
Title: Seal of Solomon
Series: Journeyman Series #2
Author: Golden Czermak
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: August 29
Sequel to Homeward Bound (Journeyman #1)
The Adventure Continues...
From author Golden Czermak, comes the second installment of the enthralling Journeyman Series.
From author Golden Czermak, comes the second installment of the enthralling Journeyman Series.
With no answers and a weapon of mass destruction slung around his neck, Gage Crosse is left with little choice but to travel with Joey Mosely to New York, seeking aid from the Order Council itself. Little do they know that they are about to embark on what may be the greatest adventure of their lives: to find the mysterious Seal of Solomon.
Meanwhile, the fragile threads holding the demon army and its monstrous allies together are unraveling. Keli must act quickly to maintain her position as ruler, else have all their efforts fall into the flames of ruin.
Can the Journeymen keep the Seal of Solomon out of demon hands, or will the Noctis succeed in wrenching all three artifacts from their control?
AMAZON * AMAZON UK * AMAZON AU
AMAZON CA * B&N * KOBO * iBOOKS
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In the beginning, Golden worked the standard corporate rat race, completed college for a Chemical Engineering Degree, and began a small photography company on the side.
Since then, and the growth of the FuriousFotog brand, Golden became an internationally published modeling/fitness photographer and eventually began working as a book cover model.
Since then, and the growth of the FuriousFotog brand, Golden became an internationally published modeling/fitness photographer and eventually began working as a book cover model.
Having been in the industry for at least four years, he has interfaced and networked with countless authors and other clients. As part of his work as a photographer, he worked with them to create book cover images - now numbering well over 250 at the beginning of 2016.
Learning the ins and out of the book world, along with being an avid reader and storyteller himself, Golden finally decided to write and publish his first book, Homeward Bound, in 2016. This paranormal adventure romance will span a total of six books and new ideas for other stories are in the works as well.
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RELEASE BLITZ : LOVE by Alyssa Rose Ivy
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There is nothing more powerful than love.
Daisy and Owen never catch a break. After being torn apart by the powerful and ruthless Elders, the
sweetness of their reunion is tempered by the knowledge that Daisy's emotions may soon disappear again.
With loyal friends by their side, Daisy and Owen will stop at nothing to save her, and their love.
Haven't started reading The Allure Chronicles yet? The prequel novella Seduction's Kiss is FREE and Lure (The Allure Chronicles #1) is on sale for 99¢!
*Prequel novella to Lure (The Allure Chronicles #1)*
Never agree to a road trip to New Orleans with your roommate. At least not when your roommate is dragging you along while she reconnects with an ex-boyfriend. Possible consequences of failing to take my advice:
1) Unknowingly going out with a vampire stripper
2) Getting kidnapped by said vampire's nest mates
3) Falling head over heels for your winged hero
Believe it or not number 3 is the worst one, especially when no one believes you that he exists.
There's danger in the beauty...
Two years, six months, and twenty-five days. That's how long it had been since I'd seen my winged hero— not that I'd been counting. I'd suffered through years of counseling just to convince my friends and family that I wasn't crazy and knew he didn't exist.
But he did. And I was done waiting.
Days after college graduation I headed back down to New Orleans to retrace my steps and find Owen again only to find my life was about to get even crazier... thanks to the most beautiful and dangerous of all paranormal creatures, the Allures.
About Alyssa Rose Ivy
RELEASE BOOST : THE FOUND by Cole McCade
Title: The Found
Series: Crow City #2
Author: Cole McCade
Genre: Dark Erotica/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 22, 2016
Blurb
Witness to a murder. Kidnapped by a monster. Life hanging on a whim. Willow Armitage’s world was already falling apart; between getting fired and caring for her chronically ill father, she’s had little room for anything but survival. But that survival hangs in the balance the night she stumbles into a back alley – and watches a stranger die at the hands of the most beautiful man she’s ever seen.
Lethal. Powerful. Unstable. Terrifying. The contract killer known only as Priest is a dangerous unknown, and when Willow wakes tied to a chair in his hideout, the only thing she sees in his fox-gold eyes is death. Yet for Priest, Willow is a dilemma: an innocent, a saint among the sinners he cuts down in the streets of Crow City. His code of honor forbids shedding innocent blood. Releasing her will send her straight to the police. The only answer is a warped game, and his promise: that he will find the darkness inside her, expose it, and prove that deep down, everyone is just as monstrous as he…and just as worthy of death.
Yet he unearths not a monster, but a smoldering and secret desire – one that has always terrified Willow, and may be her undoing. His touch sets her alight. His strength burns through her like flame. And his control melts her each time he binds her virgin body, possesses her, teaches her the strength in weakness and the passion in submission. But that passion may be her damnation, and in the end Willow must choose: Priest’s love, or her own life.
When his every kiss is pure sin…can she resist damnation long enough for Priest to find his way to redemption?
TRIGGER WARNING 18+: This story contains content centered around non-consent, bodily autonomy, sexual assault, bodily functions, and violence. Please focus on self-care above all, and don't be afraid to put the book down if you need to in order to protect yourself. You come first, always.
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Excerpt
His fingers grazed the curve of her waist. With a gasp, she snapped her eyes open. He met her gaze, fox-gold turned hot as melting amber, fierce and animal and stripping her more bare than that exposed, naked flesh. She felt like a butterfly pinned to a board, held by his gaze, her limbs going slack and her struggles stopping against her will. She hardly felt it, when he hooked a fingertip under the bunched edge of her tank top—then ripped with such effortless strength, the threads of the side seam snapping apart one after the other, until there was nothing left of her tank top but rags of cloth. No, she hardly felt that…but she felt it when he teased those rags from underneath the ropes, as every scrap of cloth stroked and washed against her skin until she was nothing but a trembling tangle of sensitivity and frozen breaths building tighter and tighter in her chest.
And she felt it when that taunting, teasing fingertip hooked in her panties, slipping into the opening just above her thigh, and she realized just what he intended to do.
“Don’t touch me.”
Suddenly she could move again—and she writhed against the ropes, fighting to squirm away. But she had barely an inch of slack, nowhere to go but against the ropes, hanging in midair and so fucking helpless she would scream with sheer rage if she didn’t want to cry with sheer hopelessness. Was he enjoying this? Enjoying watching her struggle? Enjoying how her skin tightened and pulled and her nipples swelled and her breaths came shallow with every touch, her fucking disobedient body whispering dirty thing, dirty thing, give me more of that dirty thing while her mind and heart screamed no, no, not like that, never like that?
Was he enjoying having her at his mercy, unable to escape his every touch?
His fingers dug into the fabric of her panties. Clenched it against his fist. Pulled. Cloth creased, bit, burrowed into her dirty, dirty thing, her wet dirty thing, her pulsing dirty thing, and she was a fucking dirty thing when she arched off the seat and cried out and whimpered and mewled, as he dragged the cloth against her and all she felt was sweet-rough friction and that slickness, sickness, wet and running like a licking tongue.
“D-don’t,” she cried again, and yet he only pulled harder, the panties so much worse than the rope when every fold and crease molded to her flesh like liquid fire and left nothing untouched. “Don’t!”
He paused, held that steady pressure, keeping her on the end of a taut-stretched wire. “Are you a virgin, firefly?” he growled.
She spat in his face.
Panting, body heaving, she drew back and spat in his face, and watched with a sort of foggy, dazed satisfaction as it landed in a wet streak on his cheek, dripping down his bronzed skin like a tear. He remained unmoved, watching her steadily, waiting, holding her dangling from the one hand as if he hardly felt her weight and those damnable fingers pulling her panties against her flesh.
“My body is not your business,” she hissed.
“Right now, your body is my property.” He slid a fingertip down into the crease between her hip and thigh, the place where the seam of her panties normally cut in whenever she sat, moved, shifted; there was something too personal about that touch, so close and yet so far, a threat that made her shrink back even as that feeling inside her nearly exploded, that hollow feeling that seemed like a rapacious beast, a dragon with an open maw and empty gullet that was hungry, so hungry to be full. “I want an answer.”
He bunched her panties into his hand again, curling the fabric in stretched wrinkles against his palm—and this time when he pulled he gave no quarter, a single sharp rip and a sound of cloth tearing like tape pulling off the spool, high and shrill. There was a moment’s painful bite, a muted cry welling in her throat, and then the pressure eased as the tatters of her panties fell, forgotten, to the floor.
Still he watched her. And she, naked with nowhere to hide, curled into herself; she felt her nudity like a presence, like a thing touching her and twisting over her flesh to force her to feel every moment of her exposure, every moment of her vulnerability and helplessness. Priest said nothing. He didn’t need to. He never needed to. When he wanted an answer, he got one, and would wait her out as he had before, implacable and unmoving and relentless. She had always imagined men like him to be all force, all bluster, all violence and snarling and threats.
She was quickly learning that silence—silence and careful, metered application of just enough strength to drive his point home—was just as effective as force.
And just as frightening.
Dangling from his grip like a puppy, she hung her head. Anything not to meet those piercing eyes; anything not to feel the shame of giving in to the quiet demand in his gaze; anything to make this end, so he would stop tormenting her and leave her alone.
“…yes,” she mumbled. Still he didn’t speak, or put her down. Defeat sparked into frustration, and she glared at him from under the fall of her hair. “Yes, all right? Are you happy? Is that what you fucking wanted to know?”
“Yes,” he said simply, and lowered her to the floor.
And she felt it when that taunting, teasing fingertip hooked in her panties, slipping into the opening just above her thigh, and she realized just what he intended to do.
“Don’t touch me.”
Suddenly she could move again—and she writhed against the ropes, fighting to squirm away. But she had barely an inch of slack, nowhere to go but against the ropes, hanging in midair and so fucking helpless she would scream with sheer rage if she didn’t want to cry with sheer hopelessness. Was he enjoying this? Enjoying watching her struggle? Enjoying how her skin tightened and pulled and her nipples swelled and her breaths came shallow with every touch, her fucking disobedient body whispering dirty thing, dirty thing, give me more of that dirty thing while her mind and heart screamed no, no, not like that, never like that?
Was he enjoying having her at his mercy, unable to escape his every touch?
His fingers dug into the fabric of her panties. Clenched it against his fist. Pulled. Cloth creased, bit, burrowed into her dirty, dirty thing, her wet dirty thing, her pulsing dirty thing, and she was a fucking dirty thing when she arched off the seat and cried out and whimpered and mewled, as he dragged the cloth against her and all she felt was sweet-rough friction and that slickness, sickness, wet and running like a licking tongue.
“D-don’t,” she cried again, and yet he only pulled harder, the panties so much worse than the rope when every fold and crease molded to her flesh like liquid fire and left nothing untouched. “Don’t!”
He paused, held that steady pressure, keeping her on the end of a taut-stretched wire. “Are you a virgin, firefly?” he growled.
She spat in his face.
Panting, body heaving, she drew back and spat in his face, and watched with a sort of foggy, dazed satisfaction as it landed in a wet streak on his cheek, dripping down his bronzed skin like a tear. He remained unmoved, watching her steadily, waiting, holding her dangling from the one hand as if he hardly felt her weight and those damnable fingers pulling her panties against her flesh.
“My body is not your business,” she hissed.
“Right now, your body is my property.” He slid a fingertip down into the crease between her hip and thigh, the place where the seam of her panties normally cut in whenever she sat, moved, shifted; there was something too personal about that touch, so close and yet so far, a threat that made her shrink back even as that feeling inside her nearly exploded, that hollow feeling that seemed like a rapacious beast, a dragon with an open maw and empty gullet that was hungry, so hungry to be full. “I want an answer.”
He bunched her panties into his hand again, curling the fabric in stretched wrinkles against his palm—and this time when he pulled he gave no quarter, a single sharp rip and a sound of cloth tearing like tape pulling off the spool, high and shrill. There was a moment’s painful bite, a muted cry welling in her throat, and then the pressure eased as the tatters of her panties fell, forgotten, to the floor.
Still he watched her. And she, naked with nowhere to hide, curled into herself; she felt her nudity like a presence, like a thing touching her and twisting over her flesh to force her to feel every moment of her exposure, every moment of her vulnerability and helplessness. Priest said nothing. He didn’t need to. He never needed to. When he wanted an answer, he got one, and would wait her out as he had before, implacable and unmoving and relentless. She had always imagined men like him to be all force, all bluster, all violence and snarling and threats.
She was quickly learning that silence—silence and careful, metered application of just enough strength to drive his point home—was just as effective as force.
And just as frightening.
Dangling from his grip like a puppy, she hung her head. Anything not to meet those piercing eyes; anything not to feel the shame of giving in to the quiet demand in his gaze; anything to make this end, so he would stop tormenting her and leave her alone.
“…yes,” she mumbled. Still he didn’t speak, or put her down. Defeat sparked into frustration, and she glared at him from under the fall of her hair. “Yes, all right? Are you happy? Is that what you fucking wanted to know?”
“Yes,” he said simply, and lowered her to the floor.
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Author Bio
Cole McCade is a New Orleans-born Southern boy without the Southern accent, currently residing somewhere in Seattle. He spends his days as a suit-and-tie corporate consultant and business writer, and his nights writing contemporary romance and erotica that flirt with the edge of taboo—when he’s not being tackled by two hyperactive cats.
He also writes genre-bending science fiction and fantasy tinged with a touch of horror and flavored by the influences of his multiethnic, multicultural, multilingual background as Xen Sanders. He wavers between calling himself bisexual and calling himself queer, but no matter what word he uses he’s a staunch advocate of LGBTQIA representation and visibility in genre fiction. And while he spends more time than is healthy hiding in his writing cave instead of hanging around social media, you can generally find him in these usual haunts:
He also writes genre-bending science fiction and fantasy tinged with a touch of horror and flavored by the influences of his multiethnic, multicultural, multilingual background as Xen Sanders. He wavers between calling himself bisexual and calling himself queer, but no matter what word he uses he’s a staunch advocate of LGBTQIA representation and visibility in genre fiction. And while he spends more time than is healthy hiding in his writing cave instead of hanging around social media, you can generally find him in these usual haunts:
He’s recently launched the Speak Project, an online open-access platform where anyone can anonymously or openly share or read stories of abuse – a way for survivors to overcome the silencing tactics of abusers to speak out against what was done to them, and let other survivors know they’re not alone.
He also runs an advice column called Dammit, Cole, where he occasionally answers questions about everything from romance and dating to the culture of hypermasculinity, from the perspective of a male romance author:
Looking for more? You can get early access to cover reveals, blurbs, contests, and other exclusives by joining the McCade’s Marauders street team at:
RELEASE BLITZ : TORN by Carian Cole
Title: Torn
Series: Devils Wolves MC #1
Author: Carian Cole
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: August 29, 2016
Blurb
He’s loved me since the day I was born.
He’s taken care of me.
He’s awakened me.
Tor. My father’s best friend.
Tor. My father’s best friend.
Fifteen years older than me, he’s always been my protector. The one I should never, ever want.
But I was born to be his.
She’s always loved me.
She’s always loved me.
She’s shattered me.
She’s healed me.
Kenzi. My best friend’s daughter.
I held her the day she was born, and I never let go.
She’s forbidden to me. But she’s the only one that really gets me.
We’re slowly being torn apart by everything we love.
Everything we want.
Everything we desire.
And now I want the one thing I can’t have... I want her.
And now I want the one thing I can’t have... I want her.
Purchase Links
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt
Prologue
Kenzi one day old
Kenzi one day old
Toren fifteen years old
“We want you to be her Godfather,” Asher says as he gently lays his newborn baby into my arms. I have to tear my gaze away from her spellbinding eyes to look up at him from the chair I’m cradling the baby in.
“Me?” I repeat, glancing over at Ember in the hospital bed, who beams back at me with a tired, yet genuine smile.
“Yes, you,” they both say at the same time. “If it wasn’t for you, we probably never would have met,” Ember adds, grabbing Asher’s hand. “And we wouldn’t have this beautiful little baby. We know you’ll always protect her.”
“That’s right, man. You’re Uncle Tor now.”
I’m an uncle. And my two best friends are parents. And we’re all fuckin’ under sixteen.
But Kenzi Allyster Valentine would change us all forever. She needed us.
“Wow. I’m honored, guys. No doubt, I’ll always be here for her.”
I kick back the pang that hits my stomach. I didn’t get the girl…but I got something better that I never expected. A gift in the form of a little tiny hand wrapped tightly around my finger, huge eyes like gems staring up into mine like I was the most amazing person in the friggen’ world, and the first glimpse of what I could already tell was going to be a heart-stopping smile.
At that moment, a connection was born.
That was it.
That was it.
She owned me.
My niece.
My god-daughter.
The love of my life.
Author Bio
Born and raised a Jersey girl, I now reside in beautiful New Hampshire with my husband and our multitude of furry pets and spend most of my time writing, reading, and vacuuming.
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