Rite to Reign Boxed Set

Rite to Reign

Boxed
Set

Genre: YA Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance

Something wicked this way
comes…

Willful witches, supernatural sorcerers, cruel queens,
and powerful priestesses fall out of favor and rise to rule in this
highly sought-after collection of spellbinding stories!

More
than 20 award-winning and bestselling authors have come together to
curate this bewitching boxed set collection of the best PARANORMAL
ROMANCE and URBAN FANTASY books in the genre, each brimming with
stories of royal magic.

Journey through worlds of danger and
mayhem, where witches and warlocks battle for influence and wizards
fight for unrestricted power.

But reader beware: the highly
addictive stores in RITE TO REIGN will put you under their spell. One
click to secure your limited edition copy today!

Featuring
Stories from :

USA Today bestselling author Heather Marie
Adkins

Teresa Roman

JJ King writing with Candace Osmond

USA
Today bestselling author SJ Davis writing with P. Mattern

Scott
Hungerford

USA Today bestselling author Shawna Romkey

USA Today
bestselling author Ash Krafton

USA Today bestselling author
Christine Ashworth

Anna Santos

Melissa Winters

Colleen S.
Myers

Andie M. Long

Alex H. Singh

Sabrina Ramoth

L.C.
Ireland

Louisa Bacio

Grace White

Helen Scott

Carma Haley
Shoemaker

Kyndra Hatch

Mirren Hogen & Stephanie Barr

E.B.
Black

Ella Middaugh

Kat Parrish

Tanya Dawson

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OPERATION: Get Holly Laid by Callie Vegas blitz

OPERATION: Get Holly Laid
Callie Vegas
Publication date: November 16th 2018
Genres: Erotica, Romance

Holly loves Christmas. Or she did until she found her fiancé, Trey, cheating on her. In HER bed.

The best way to get over a guy Is to get under another one, or so her friends tell her!

Her besties come up with a plan to help her get over Trey for once and for all.

They devise a plan which they call ‘Operation: Get Holly Laid.’

Join Holly and her friends in their laughter, sex, tears & the odd temper tantrum as we find out, did Holly get laid?

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—

EXCERPT:

As I pull into my driveway, I notice my Christmas tree lights are on, Trey must be home early from work. After climbing out of my car, I pull my skirt further up my legs to show more thigh. I was shopping earlier and bought a gorgeous, sexy red Basque, complete with a white fur trim. I thought I’d be home first and have time to put it on and surprise him when he came home. Smiling I think to myself, I’ll have to save that for another day.

I drop my bags just inside the door and softly close it behind me. There’s music playing and with only three weeks to Christmas the sound of sleigh bells ring throughout my house. “Trey, I’m home,” I call, but when I don’t get any answer, I drop my keys on the hallway table and start towards the stairs.

The closer I get to my bedroom, the louder the music becomes. Someone’s feeling festive. I wonder if Trey is surprising me with his own little Christmas routine. Laughing to myself I push open the door, already shedding my top.

The scene behind my bedroom door makes me blink in surprise. I’m thinking Trey will be laid on my bed with his red trunks on—maybe a Santa beard—saying, “Ho, ho, ho.”

He is laid on my bed, but he’s not wearing any trunks, he’s wearing a nubile young girl who is bouncing up and down on his cock, her tits swinging and bouncing from side to side. They’re both moaning so loud they don’t even hear me enter the room.

I’m almost captivated as the girl leans back, resting her hands on his knees as she lifts her pussy off his cock. Repeatedly. I can’t watch anymore.

“What the fuck is going on?” Like a moth to a flame I’ve moved closer to the bed. I reach out, grab her hair and pull her back until she is lying down, hopefully I’ve snapped his cock in half.

“Oi, let go, you bitch.” This is from the girl whose hair I have wrapped around my palm.

“Who are you calling a bitch? You’re fucking my fiancé!” I stalk around the bed, dragging her with me despite the fact she’s still attached to Trey’s cock.

“Holly, let go of her hair. You’re breaking my dick!” Trey tries to lift the whore off his cock.

“I’ll do more than that when I get hold of your dick.” The slag looks at me, trying to pull her hair out of my hands. I let go and she clambers off Trey, gathering her clothes before running out of the room, naked. “Run, whore, before I can catch you,” I call after her, but I barely give her the time of day as I turn back to face Trey. He has the audacity to cover his dick with his hands as he scrambles off the bed.

“Holly, I can explain…”

Author Bio:

I write HEA, steamy romance. I am a hopeless romantic at heart with a dirty mind.

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The Beginning of Home by Krista Sandor

Title: The Beginning of Home

Series: Langley Park Series, Book 3

Author: Krista Sandor

Genre: Contemporary Romance (standalone)

Release Date: November 14, 2018

New name. New town. New life.

Lindsey Hanlon is so close to a new beginning. 

After fleeing an abusive relationship and living on the run, she’s starting over in the quaint town of Langley Park.

Even though she’s escaped, she’s not in the clear.

Lindsey’s carrying a secret that could get her killed. 

As long as she flies under the radar, she’s safe. But things get complicated and passions flare when her first love unexpectedly appears, and neither can deny the bond that still exists between them.

A second chance at love could be what Lindsey needs to heal and move on. It could also jeopardize everything, including her life.

The Beginning of Home is a sexy standalone romance in the Langley Park series.

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Nick couldn’t sleep. His thoughts whipped around wildly like a propeller on the brink of flying loose. Around and around, and with every rotation, Lindsey’s face flashed before his eyes. He narrowed his gaze and focused on the worn punching bag hanging in the corner of the carriage house garage.

Jab, hook. Jab, hook.
He repeated the movement but couldn’t settle into a rhythm.

He punched harder, faster. Sweat trailed down his chest. His breath came in short, heated gasps.

His pulse raced. His skin crawled. He wanted to go to her. He wanted to know everything—every single detail of what her life had been like since their last day at Camp Clem.

He could have stared at Lindsey all night. He could tell by the way her eyes darted back and forth, she was nervous. But she relaxed a bit, sitting there on the porch with Michael and Em. Whispers of that teenage girl he had fallen in love with sixteen years ago were there. The gentle, upturned curve of her lower lip as she smiled. The way she had focused her attention like she was framing a photograph in her head while she listened to Michael describe the Foursquare’s architecture. 

She was just as beautiful as the last time he had seen her. Maybe even more so, if that were even possible. She’d been wearing a bulky sweatshirt, but when she’d pushed up the sleeves, revealing her slender wrists, the image of her delicate hands twisted and entwined in rope made him hard like a teenager unable to control his primal urges.

He continued to pummel the punching bag. Tight uppercuts mixed with quick jabs. His vision went hazy, and his father’s face, angry and snarling, manifested in front of him. Nick punched harder. Regret and frustration fueled his assault. His muscles quivered with exertion, and, after what seemed like an eternity, he fell forward, holding onto the bag, cheek pressed to the worn leather.

He stayed like that for a long time, swaying as the chain holding the bag suspended from the ceiling creaked out a weary tune. The bag stilled, and he closed his eyes. His body started to relax when he heard a sound. He’d propped the door to the carriage house open to let in the fresh night air, but all had been quiet on Foxglove Lane until now. The noise was a muffled cry. He knew immediately that it was Lindsey. She was calling out. She needed help.

He ran outside. He was only wearing mesh athletic shorts and running shoes, but the cold March air was the last thing on his mind. He ran to the back of Lindsey’s Foursquare. She was whimpering, begging for her life between sobs. He tried to open the back door. It was locked. Adrenaline coursing through his body, he reared back then thrust his shoulder into the door. The weak lock buckled, and the door swung open. He ran through the kitchen, past the family room, and into the foyer. He scanned for any intruders. There wasn’t anyone on the first floor. The front door was closed and locked. No sign of forced entry. He hit the stairs, taking them three at a time.

“Please, stop. Please!”
Christ, he had to get to her. He checked each bedroom and found her in Em’s old room. She was alone. He didn’t dare turn on a light. If there was an intruder, he wanted to catch the bastard off guard. But after a few seconds, Lindsey called out again, her face contorting in the moonlight. He checked all the rooms one more time. There was no one else in the house. 

“Lindsey,” he whispered. He fell to his knees next to her bed. “Lindsey, wake up.”

Wisps of hair clung to her sweat soaked forehead, and he brushed a few strands from her face.

She opened her eyes. “Nick, you’re here. You’re really here. It’s you.”

She blinked slowly, hovering in that space between sleep and wakefulness. Her eyes, glassy with tears, stared up at him in awe. She touched his face as if she wasn’t sure if he were real.

“How did you know I needed you?”

He swallowed hard. No one was in the house. She wasn’t in any danger. “I heard you, Linds. I heard you calling out.”

She cupped his face in her hands and pulled him close. Her breath was warm against his lips. “Nick,” she breathed, letting her fingers trace the shell of his ear.

What the hell was going on? 
She had been traumatized by the mere sight of him when she’d arrived at the house. The next time he saw her outside the hardware shop, she had made it quite clear she didn’t want anything to do with him. But now, with her so close and looking at him just like she did when they were teenagers, he couldn’t stop his body from responding to her touch. He had never found that level of connection with anyone besides her. The closest he’d ever come to that feeling of all-encompassing joy were those moments when he was flying, that split-second during takeoff right before the aircraft took flight. But having Lindsey right here, lips millimeters from his, the flying sensation became a far second in comparison to being close to her.

“Linds, what’s wrong? Why were you calling out?”

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asked, her words a dreamy, sing-songy whisper.

He hadn’t kissed anyone in ages. He had tried to have girlfriends after their summer, but nothing clicked. He’d had the real thing, but life had fucked all that up. He had spent the last decade having meaningless sex, and he hadn’t kissed a woman—properly kissed a woman— in over a decade.

His body tensed. A tremor of excitement ran down his spine. Every part of him wanted her. Christ, he wanted to climb into bed with her, crash his lips into hers, and sink his throbbing cock, hard and pulsing with desire, into her sweet center. He wanted to run his hands up the length of her arms and wrap his fingers around her delicate wrists. He wanted her blue-green eyes locked on his. He wanted to disappear into the safety of her world just as he had that summer.

“Nick,” she breathed, the word infused with sunshine and wildflowers. It was an invitation, but to what?

She inched forward, and her lips grazed his. As gentle as a lullaby, but as ominous as a low rumble of thunder, every memory of their time together came flooding back. A torrent of sensations raining down on him like a hail storm. His breath came faster. His body tightened. Despite her crazy mixed signals, despite knowing that something in her past was haunting her, and despite knowing he would hate himself in the morning if she rejected him, he laced his fingers into her hair and leaned in closer.

His lips pressed against hers, and he was home. He rested her head back onto the pillow and hovered above her. She sighed and gave him the opening he needed to claim her mouth. Their tongues remembered the slow, sensual rhythm of their kisses.

“I never wanted it to end,” he whispered, his words hot and breathy between kisses.

If there’s one thing Krista Sandor knows for sure, it’s that romance saved her. After she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2015, her world turned upside down. During those difficult first days, her dear friend sent her a romance novel. That kind gesture provided the escape she needed and ignited her love of the genre. Inspired by the strong heroines and happily ever afters, Krista decided to write her own romance series. Today, she is an MS Warrior and living life to the fullest. When she’s not writing, you can find Krista running 5Ks and chasing after her growing boys in her adopted home of Denver, Colorado.

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Time Twist by Author Jeanie Davis

Arianna Miller tosses her luggage and her hopes into her Subaru and sets out to prove her talent—by decorating a Victorian mansion thirty miles from nowhere. She needs a fresh start and a break from painful memories. However, she is soon haunted by reminders of her past and endangered by foreboding mysteries.

Christopher Flemming is determined to stop his father's crime spree, which began in nineteenth century London and now threatens present day Colorado. He must find and destroy the time-traveling machine that brought them forward in time. More importantly, he needs to save Arianna.

Because of Christopher's blurred focus, Arianna finds her attraction to him untenable. She wants to help him, but he refuses to reveal his connection to the mansion.

Everything changes when Arianna stumbles onto the time machine before Christopher does. Will her future end up in the past?

~ Universal Amazon Link ~ 

~ Goodreads ~

   Jeanie Davis is an Arizona transplant—twenty-four years and counting. She loves peach ice cream, shopping, a clean house…oh, and chocolate, of course. She has traveled extensively—from Fiji to Africa and Europe to Costa Rica—but prefers being at home creating new adventures on her computer.

     Her four daughters have left her nest empty, but they return often with grandchildren who bring real fun and adventure to her life. And thankfully, Jeanie's awesome husband, Rick, loves to join in on all her escapades.

      A good romance will always capture Jeanie's attention; add suspense or historical ties and she's totally hooked. She's the author of a time-traveling adventure, Time Twist—the first of a romantic/suspense series with a twist of paranormal; an historical fiction novel, As Ever Yours, based on the lives of her grandparents, and a children's Christmas book, I Don't Know Why I Did It.

     Jeanie is passionate about writing, and she always has a new story to delve into or an older one to revise. She began by writing poetry and music, which she still enjoys, but now novels have moved to the forefront of her avocational pursuits.

     When she's not spoiling her grandchildren, Jeanie spends her free time curled up with a good book or typing away on her most recent mystery, adventure or romance.

~ Facebook ~ Instagram ~

~ Twitter ~

Excerpt:

Darkness had fallen. She turned on lights as she passed from one room to the next. First, she inspected the main level, taking her time to make every detail precise. Other than some packaging materials scattered on the floor in the theater room, so far everything looked good. “Theater room,” Ari snarled. “Four years ago, you didn’t even know what a television was, Mr. Somers.” She gathered the trash and took it out to the garage.  

When she entered the study, a dark foreboding sensation enshrouded her like a cloak. Shadows seemed to follow her as she moved. Taking a breath, she gave herself a mental shake.  

Of course she felt this way—this house was haunted—not by spirits that once were, but by the evil spirit of one moving in. She shivered.  

A door banged shut. Ari jumped a few inches off the ground and spun around. Everything appeared normal.  

She wished she had cell phone service. Deep breath. Deep breath.

A creaking noise sounded like it came from above her. She stood frozen. This feels so familiar, she thought. However, this time I’m supposed to be here doing my job, so there’s no reason to be frightened. The realization gave her enough courage to press forward.  

Arianna headed up the stairs to inspect the game room and bedrooms. It was fully dark. She hadn’t been to the upper level since the sun had set. Her heart rattled in her chest as she flipped the first light-switch, tamping down a childish fear that someone might jump out at every turn. The house, so quiet, felt eerie. Even the rain had stopped, ending the gentle pitter-patter she’d listened to throughout the day.

Clouds moved around the moon, generating ghostlike shadows in the activity room. Her flesh crawled with anxiety. She’d been pleased the Somers allowed for a game room in their Victorian mansion. At least there would be some entertainment for Joshua and Sarah. Guilt attempted once more to worm its way into her conscience. Helping them was imperative. She whispered a silent prayer for Christopher. Last she’d heard, he still waited for the analysis results. Everything hinged on those tests.

Moving to the air-hockey table, she lifted one of the pucks and twirled it in her hand, wondering if Josh or Sarah would know what do to with it. The disc slipped from her fingers, slamming onto the table. The noise made her jump, sending her nerves back to high alert.  

She hurried on to the master bedroom. Once more she thought she heard something, stopped, and held perfectly still, listening. “Hello, is anyone there?”

Silence.

Shivering, she moved on. The master bath and closets all looked good. Wait; there it was again, a rustling noise. She paused, anxiety working its way through her nerves. She wondered if a window could be open, then realized that with the rain and her stern warnings nobody would have dared open a window. She proceeded quickly through the spare rooms.  

Next came Joshua’s bedroom. The baseball and glove were the only things out of place. With trepidation, she put them away. Was it her imagination, or had the ball quivered in her fingers? She shook her head. I’m making myself crazy. Her eyes landed on the family picture by Joshua’s bed. Her thoughts nearly stole away with memories of her discussion with Christopher, when another noise pulled her from her ruminations.  

I know that wasn’t my imagination. Her heart beat too loudly now to hear anything else. Mentally retracing her steps, she was certain she’d locked up after the last of the workers had left the house. “Hello?” She tried to make her voice firm, but it faltered.

No response.

Only Sarah’s room remained unchecked. She’d been turning the upstairs lights on as she’d inspected each room and off again when she’d left it. Sarah’s light was on. Besides a few beams illuminating the main level, only Sarah’s room remained lit. As Ari cautiously crept down the hall, the light cast a moving shadow on the wall, which chafed at her already tattered nerves. The extra adrenaline urged her to pick up the pace forward. She nearly sprinted the final feet to Sarah’s room.

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