Saturday, February 28, 2015

Release Day: Sting by Jennifer Ryder


Going undercover has its challenges. When Detective Ryan Clark is sent to the sleepy coastal town of Fremantle to dismantle the country’s most lethal drug syndicate, it’s worth the risk. Even if he becomes a fatality, in the war against drugs.

Ryan finds himself coming back to the same coffee shop. Blondie, the local barista, has him hot under the collar and reaching for his piece. He knows the attraction isn’t just one-sided.

She’s trying to keep her distance.

It only makes him want her more.

Willow Asher left it all behind, but not by choice.

After two long years, she’s finally getting somewhere. Willow has a busy cafĂ© with her buxom business partner, Gabby, who is the closest thing she has to family.

Although Willow’s past still plagues her thoughts, she’s determined to have her happily-ever-after. As soon as her demons stop haunting her.

What she doesn’t need is the complication of Mr Sexy-Brown-Eyes, who seems to be drinking more and more coffee.

She doesn’t want the questions.

She’s still trying to get her story straight.

Title: Sting
Series: Spark #4
Author: Jennifer Ryder
Release Date: February 28, 2015







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7511241New Adult and erotic romance writer, and author of the Spark series. 

A sexy imagination, a life-long love of books and a sucker for romance, Jennifer Ryder couldn't stifle her creativity any longer.

Writing steamy adult romance has become her new focus. Living on a rural property in New South Wales, Australia, she enjoys the best of city and country.

Her loving husband is ever willing to provide inspiration, and her two young cherubs, and sheep that don't see fences as barriers, keep life more than interesting.

Jennifer placed third in the International Stringybark Erotic Short Fiction Award 2013.








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Friday, February 27, 2015

Blitz: Hold by Claire Kent


Find the strongest man there. Give yourself to him in return for protection. It’s the only way you’ll ever survive.

Convicted of a minor crime, Riana is sentenced to a prison planet—a dark primitive hold filled with convicts vying for power. Her only chance of survival is with Cain, a mysterious loner who has won his territory in the prison through intelligence and brute strength. Sex is all she has to offer, so she uses it. She’s under no delusions here. No one is ever released, and no one ever escapes. Survival is all she can hope for—until Cain.

An earlier version of this book was published under the same title and a different penname by Ellora’s Cave. It has since been substantially revised and expanded.




Hold by Claire Kent 

Publication date: February 24th 2015
Genres: Erotica, Romance, Science Fiction







His weight lowered over her as both of them started to come down. He was heavy and hot, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The texture of his breath was thick and damp next to her ear.
After a minute, he pulled up and rolled over, groaning as he sprawled out on his back.
It was still too dark to see anything.
Riana was burning with lingering pleasure and with absolute embarrassment. She never would have believed she could come—have an actual orgasm, a good one—in a situation like this.
She didn’t know this man. She never would have slept with him if she’d been in any normal situation.
But their blind, groping, half-asleep coupling might have been the best fuck of her life.
She’d thought he’d gone to sleep again, but suddenly his low voice wafted over toward her. “I’m Cain.”
“What?”
“My name. Cain.”
“Oh.” She swallowed and stared up at the blackness above her. “Hi.”
They lay in silence for a long time. She thought once more he’d fallen asleep, but then he surprised her by a question. “Why me?”
It seemed to come out of the blue, but she knew exactly what he was asking.
There were any number of answers to that question. There was no one better. He was the only one she could tolerate. She’d noticed the signs that revealed he could take what he wanted, even in a place like this.
But there was only one answer that mattered, so she told him the truth in the dark. “You’re the strongest one here.”





Claire has been writing romance novels since she was twelve years old. She has a PhD in British literature and, when she's not writing, she teaches English at the university level.


She also writes romance novels under the penname Noelle Adams.








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Tour: Taint by S.L. Jennings


Right now, you’re probably asking yourself two things: Who am I? And, what the hell are you doing here? Let’s start with the most obvious question, shall we? You’re here, ladies, because you can’t f*ck. Oh, stop it. Don’t cringe. No one under the age of 80 clutches their pearls. You might as well get used to it, because for the next six weeks, you’re going to hear that word a lot. And you’re going to say it a lot. Go ahead, try it out on your tongue. F*ck. F***ck. Ok, good. Now where were we? If you enrolled yourself in this program then you are wholly aware that you’re a lousy lay. Good for you. Admitting it is half the battle. For those of you that have been sent here by your husband or significant other, dry your tears and get over it. You’ve been given a gift, ladies. The gift of mind-blowing, wall-climbing, multiple-orgasm-inducing sex. You have the opportunity to f*ck like a porn star. And I guarantee, you will when I’m done with you. And who am I? Well, for the next six weeks, I will be your lover, your teacher, your best friend, and your worst enemy. Your every-f*cking-thing. I’m the one who is going to save your relationship and your sex life. I am Justice Drake. And I turn housewives into whores. Now…who’s first?


Taint
A Sexual Education Novel
By: S.L. Jennings
Print Release: February 24th, 2015
Avon/William Morrow Books






I’m a lot of things—crass, stubborn, brutally honest, egotistical—but one thing I am not, is careless. I know my boundaries, and I never cross them. In a business where lines can be easily blurred, those boundaries are outlined in black Sharpie, traced in gasoline, then set the fuck on fire, ensuring that no one even gets close enough to inhale the fumes of temptation.
Yet here I am, touching, tempting, testing the limits. Begging to get burned by an angel with a halo of fire.
“My apologies, Mrs. Carr.” I straighten, my defiant hands balled into tight fists at my sides. “I assure you—”
“You like it?”
I meet her eyes, which are as big and bright as the moon, casting an ethereal glow across her face. This close, much closer than most people would deem innocent, I see they’re not quite blue, as I’d initially thought. Flecks of green and gold illuminate the irises, and I find myself getting lost in the liquid depths, wondering what secrets lie beneath. What past pain is hidden behind those long, auburn-hued lashes.
Yes, I like it. Much more than a narcissistic asshole like me should.
Liking these women isn’t what made me the man I am today. It isn’t what built my solid reputation. I’m not known for my bleeding heart of gold or sugarcoated tongue. What I am known for is results. And that’s all Allison—or anyone else, for that matter—will get from me, and not a damn thing more.
I’m facing the entrance to her suite by the time I realize I’ve abandoned her, leaving her mouth agape and her question unanswered. I imagine those blue-green eyes narrowed in confusion at my erratic behavior, but force myself not to look. There’s nothing to see there that I haven’t seen already. Just another poor, little, rich girl.
“Class is in session at ten a.m. Don’t be late.” My gaze stays fixed on the dark, cherrywood door. I am dying to break free. The walls are closing in, suffocating me, demanding I turn around and face my cowardice. That I confront my weakness, currently bubbling up like bile as I pass the threshold of her suite—away from those enigmatic eyes and the temptation to play connect the dots with those freckles, in hopes of uncovering more of her beautifully blemished skin.
Day-fucking-One. I’m so screwed.




S.L. Jennings is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance, reality TV junkie, obsessive coffee drinker and collector of crazy.


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