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Friday, March 1, 2019

Bound to His Bride by Madison Faye




Title: Bound to His Bride

Author: Madison Faye
Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 25, 2019





Blurb

Vows sealed us together. The mob tore us apart.
But now this beast without his beauty is coming back to
take what’s his.
She’s mine. To love. To honor. To comfort.
And this time, to keep.
Forever.

To a rough, filthy,
savage mob fixer like me, she was an angel. My angel. The
beauty to tame the beast I kept inside. I was lost the second I saw her. Abby
was my everything. My second chance, the bride I never should have had.

…And then one day, I
didn’t.

The mob takes its
dues in blood, and I was their collector. And somehow, I let her get away from
me. Too many shadows. Too much blood on my hands. Too many nights away from the
only bed I wanted, warmed by the only woman I ever craved.

But tonight, I’m through.
Tonight, I’m taking back my wife.

I’ve been keeping
watch over her, and my desire has turned to obsession. It’s turned into a raw,
fierce need—to have her, to claim her once again. To take her
back and take her in our marriage bed. I’m through being the
mob’s mad dog, and this beast is about to tear their world apart to get back
his bride.

Months ago, I let
the only goodness I’ve ever known walk out of my life. But tonight, I’m taking
her back.

Tonight, I’m claiming
her all over again. Tonight, I’m going to remind her of the vows we spoke.

And I’ll storm
heaven and hell to take back my angel.









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Author Bio

USA Today and #1 bestselling contemporary romance author
Madison Faye is the dirty alter ego of the very wholesome, very normal suburban
housewife behind the stories. While she might be a wife, mom, and PTA organizer
on the outside, there's nothing but hot, steamy, and raunchy fantasies brewing
right beneath the surface!



Tired of keeping them hidden inside or only having them come out in the
bedroom, they're all here in the form of some wickedly hot stories.
Single-minded alpha hero, sinfully taboo relationships, and wildly over-the-top
scenarios. If you love it extra dirty, extra hot, and extra naughty, this is
the place for you! (Just don't tell the other PTA members you saw her here...)



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FREE books!

http://www.madisonfayeromance.com/newsletter




Author Links






Hard at Work by Lola StVil



Title: Hard at Work

Series: Nice and Dirty #3
Author: Lola StVil
Genre: Dark Alpha Romance

Release Date: February 25, 2019





Blurb


When a clumsy
waitress spilled a drink on me, I looked up to see who this woman was. Her name
is Aria Stevens. She is gorgeous and her curves are so dangerous they should
come with a warning. 

When her boss fires
her for spilling the drink, I offer her a job at my firm. I find out that not
only is she hot, she’s also smart and funny. I want her so damn bad; it hurts.
But she’s skittish and shies away from me. I thought she was staying away
because I’m her Boss, but its more than that; she’s a virgin. 

Now that I know, I
have plans for Aria and I will make sure that I claim not only her body but
also her heart and soul. She says she’s single because men are hard to deal
with. But I’ll show her that a hard man is exactly what she needs. 







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Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE
COLTON

What the
fuck am I doing here? That’s the question that keeps on running through my head
as I circulate around the governor’s ball. Yeah, the fucking governor’s ball.
It’s so not my scene, but it’s the sort of event that opens doors. You get seen
at a place like this, and the money in the room knows your business is
trustworthy.
I fit in
because I force myself to, but my suit itches and irritates me. I’d be so much
more comfortable in jeans and a tool belt, but as the owner of Colton Blackwell
Industries, I find myself in a suit way more often than I’d like.
I smile
politely and nod as a woman dripping in diamonds and wearing a little too much
of over-expensive foreign scent tells me her issues with the current political
system for the fourth time. I’m trying to figure out how the fuck I can get
away from her without being outright rude, when I see her. A vision. An actual
fucking angel.
I can only
see her from the back, but the way her black cocktail dress hugs her hips makes
her ass captivate me. I feel my cock stiffening as I look her over. She’s tall,
but she’s not one of those girls who try to shrink themselves. She has her
shoulders back, her head held high. She balances the tray of champagne on her
hand with ease, moving through the crowd with a quiet grace. The electric-blue
streak in her jet-black hair makes her look exotic, like she knows how to kick
back and some fun.
I have no
idea what the woman talking to me is saying. From the second my eyes set on that
waitress, there’s been no room in my head for anything else. I see myself
walking up behind her, taking the tray from her, and throwing it to one side. I
stand behind her, push her dress up, and rip away her panties. I bend her over
the table and fuck her senseless.
“Mr.
Blackwell? Are you all right?”
Hearing my
name pulls me out of the fantasy and I turn back to the conversation. I fake a
smile.
“Yes.
Sorry, I felt a little dizzy for a moment there,” I say. “Would you excuse me?
I think I need a bit of air.”
I walk away
before she has a chance to reply, and I’m sure I offended her, but it would
surely offend her more if she happened to glance down and see I had a hard-on.
I slip into the bathroom and lock the door, leaning back against it, waiting it
out until my cock goes down. I want to jerk off, to let my fantasies run wild
as I picture the waitress. If the front of her is even half as pleasing on my
eye as the back, then fuck me am I in trouble if I see her again.
I am
shocked at the reaction she caused in me. I haven’t so much as glanced at a
woman in almost two years. There’s no deep reason for it, no skeleton in my
closet. I just got sick of being part of the dating scene. It’s a mess of gold
diggers, social climbers, and women with whom I just had nothing in common and
no chemistry.
But her?
She awoke a side of me I thought was gone for good. The side of me that wants
to make her scream my name through her raw throat as she comes for the third
and fourth time. The side that makes me want to taste her pussy, claim it as
mine and fuck her all day, every day.
Thinking
this way is doing nothing to get my hard-on to go away, and I resign myself to
the fact that I’m going to have to jerk off in the governor’s bathroom. Not
something I ever saw myself doing. But then, I didn’t know that such a rare
beauty existed, that such fire could course through my body and make me lose
complete control.
I take care
of my business and clean my cock with some toilet paper. I flush it away and
wash my hands. I walk back out into the room. I stand on the edges, scanning
the room, but I don’t see her. Instead I see an ocean of wealthy, glamorous,
small-minded, fake people—the in crowd.
I can fake
the smiles and feign interest in things I don’t give a rat’s ass about, but I’ll
never be one of them. Not really. I don’t want to be. I want Colton Blackwell
Industries to flourish, and I like the fact I’m only twenty-nine and already a
millionaire, but it hasn’t changed who I am. And who I am is not one of these
people. I’m just a normal guy who turned his passion into a business. I was
shocked when the governor called me and asked me to complete a large extension
on one of his properties. I was even more surprised when he personally oversaw
the job. And the last thing I expected was an invite to his ball. I mean, come
on. Like, what the actual fuck?
It’s been a
whole lot of surprises, and the most surprising part of it all is my reaction
to the waitress. Part of me wants to stay right here until I see her again, but
part of me wants to turn around, leave, and try to forget her. That won’t be
easy, but I swore off women and I have no intention of that changing. Just
because she looks so damn good in a dress doesn’t mean she’ll be different than
the rest, and I have no intention of getting involved with her or anyone else.
I decide to
give it another half an hour and then slip away. To leave too early would be
seen as a snub on the governor, and I’m not an idiot. I know that, as much as I
hate this fake shit, to land big projects, you have to know the right people. I
decide to go out on the balcony and get some fresh air like I said I was.
I start to
cross the room, nodding hello at the few faces I recognize as I go. I am
halfway across when my cell phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out and look
down at the screen. Before I even register who it is, I feel someone collide
with me.
A loud
clatter fills the air, and I feel champagne soaking into my expensive suit. I
stand there, frozen in time. Not because of the champagne, but because I find
myself face to face with my girl.
Her face is
a mask of horror, but she is still beautiful. She has big brown doe eyes that
stare back at me with the same intensity I am staring at her. Her lips are
full, red and sensuous, and I can’t help imagining how they would feel wrapped
around my cock. She looks every bit as good from the front as she did from the
back. Her breasts aren’t big, but they are perky, and I want to caress them, to
pull them into my mouth. I feel my cock starting to rise again.
I remind
myself that I’m done with dating, but something tells me this waitress will
break that resolve without trying. There’s something special about her.
Something that scares me. Because when I look at her, I don’t see a quick fuck
and a goodbye. I see a lifetime.

CHAPTER TWO
ARIA

I hate
being a waitress. There, I said it. The thing is, I need this job. The pay is
reasonable and the tips make it good money. Good enough to pay for business
school and cover my bills and not intense enough that I can’t get any studying
done.
The most
annoying thing about waitressing is that even though I hate it, I’m pretty good
at it. I look good enough in a tight black dress, I can be unobtrusive, and I
have decent skills when it comes to balancing overloaded drinks trays on my
hands. It’s not my passion, though. My passion is business, but I want to learn
the ropes before I dive in. I’m only twenty-one; I have plenty of time to do
this the right way.
I walk
around the room with my tray of drinks, smiling politely, subtly collecting up
empty glasses, and generally wishing I was anywhere but here.
“Excuse me,
miss,” someone behind me calls.
I turn my
head and realize they are talking to one of the other waitresses. I turn back
the way I’m walking, but it’s too late. I collide with a man. The tray flies
from my hand, hundreds of dollars’ worth of glassware crashes to the ground,
and the champagne from all those glasses soaks him.
I freeze,
looking at the mess I made. And then my eyes meet his. His eyes are dark brown,
almost black. They are stormy and dangerous and utterly addictive. I feel a
rush of wetness between my legs as his piercing gaze locks on to mine. Great.
I’m practically coming in my panties and he’s going to yell at me. The more I
look at him, the wetter and more flustered I get.
I wish I
spotted him sooner, like before I’d doused him in expensive champagne. Not that
it matters. Someone like him wouldn’t waste their time with a waitress. And
besides, I have a boyfriend and I’m not the kind of girl who cheats. I’m generally
not the kind of girl who gets wet looking at strangers, either.
I manage to
pull my gaze from his long enough to take in the expensive suit I ruined and
the taut muscles beneath it. I feel myself tingling as I take him in.
I realize
that the crashing sound of the tray falling to the floor has caused everyone in
the room to fall silent. I feel heat start to flush my cheeks. I wait for him
to make a scene. I am so fired. I don’t know what to do. Should I run for a
towel? Clean up the glass? I should at least apologize.
“I … I’m so
sorry,” I stammer.
My words
break the spell, and the tantrum never comes. The man gives me a half shrug and
smiles, a smile that lights up his eyes and sends another shiver running
through me. He crouches down and begins to pick up the pieces of broken glass.
I see the governor rushing toward us. He nods subtly to another waiter, who
takes the hint: get the mess cleaned up. The conversation in the room starts up
again as the other guests realize they’re staring.
The governor
reaches us. “Colton, I’m so sorry about this.”
He doesn’t
give Colton a chance to respond before he turns to me.
“What’s
your name?” he demands.
“Aria. Aria
Stevens, sir,” I whisper.
“Well, Aria
Stevens, it’s time for you pack your things and get out of here. And I’ll make
sure you never work in this town again. You’re a disgrace.”
I feel
tears flood my eyes. I need this job.
“I …” I
start.
I stop,
knowing I won’t be able to say any more without crying. Colton glares at the
governor and then turns to me. He smiles and holds out his hand.
“Hi. I’m
Colton Blackwell,” he says. “And I’d love to have you...”






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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU



Author Bio


Lola StVil
is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who writes Fantasy in
addition to Contemporary romance. She has written over a dozen books and loves
taking her readers on an emotional roller coaster ride. She is currently living
in California and enjoys staying in touch with her readers.


Author Links

Beta Test by Karen Renee

Title: Beta Test
Series: Beta Series Novel
Author: Karen Renee
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Comedy
Release Date: February 12, 2019






Justine is adjusting to life after a divorce. A friend insists on setting her up with a man. She will not have another Alpha male in her life. Her next man will be an easy-going “Beta” male.

James does not believe in long term relationships. After he meets Justine, he's certain bachelorhood is it for him. When work brings James to her home, their chemistry ignites.

Will they give love a chance?





Our table was situated next to the picture windows. We had a clear view of the river and the boat traffic moving around the Main Street bridge. The lights of the over-sized Christmas tree at the Landing glittered in the night.
Our waiter returned and placed Justine’s salad plate in front of her. He placed a plate in front of me, and said, “Wedge salad, no dressing.”
I looked at the plate and it was nothing but lettuce, cut in a wedge. Once the waiter left our table, Justine giggled and it was obvious she was fighting to keep it under control. I was feeling a little self-conscious, with her laughing so much, but she was especially beautiful in the dim lighting, giggling with abandon.
Once her hilarity was under control, she looked at me. “Well, that’s probably the most costly quarter-head of iceberg lettuce in the country.”
“No doubt,” I muttered. “Maybe I’ll ask for a doggie bag and make some kick-ass BLTs out of it.”
If a snort could be feminine, Justine pulled it off, and croaked out, “Roger Rabbit would be affronted at the notion!”
I chuckled. “Then it’s good he’s a fictional character and that I don’t have a rabbit at home. At least now we know why the waiter had that tone with me earlier.”
“Yeah,” she replied on a chuckle.
By the end of our meal, Justine and I both had doggie-bags. Mine included the bulk of my lettuce wedge and a few bites of steak for Zeta. Justine’s bag had half her chicken and a fair amount of creamed spinach. She had saved room for dessert and the ‘Death By Chocolate’ cake did not disappoint. However, it was at that point of our evening that I realized my mistake. I should have insisted on a Saturday night date and reserved a room at the DoubleTree Hotel where the steakhouse was located.
I walked Justine out of the restaurant and noticed the waiter, the bartender, and another man at a table eyeing Justine. My shoulders tightened with my tension. Justine was oblivious to the show she was putting on for the men in the room, and that made her show all the better. Once we were in the corridor leading to the exit, I slung a possessive arm around Justine’s shoulder and was rewarded with a strong whiff of her spicy floral perfume.
She looked up at me with questioning eyes. “Something wrong, there, James?”
I tipped my chin down toward her. “Nope, not any more. Now it’s time to go to my place and get to the good stuff.”


Karen Renee is the author of the Riot MC Series. She has wanted to be a writer from a very early age, and she’s finally bringing that dream to life. She has worked in advertising, banking, and local television media research. She is a proud wife and mother, and a Jacksonville native. When she’s not at the soccer field or cooking, you can find her at her local library, the grocery store, in her car jamming out to some tunes, or hibernating while she writes and/or reads books.




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Possess by Olivia Ryann





Title: Possess

Series: Protect #3
Author: Olivia Ryann
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: March 1, 2019




Blurb


This dark tale of obsession, beauty, and lust is by Wall
Street Journal, USA Today, and Amazon Bestseller Vivian Wood. She writes dark
romance as OLIVIA RYANN.


There is something blooming between my captor and I, hot and
wet and fragile.
Lust. Obsession. Maybe it’s even love.
But there are still secrets that stand between us, looming
large over whatever happiness we might find together.
Dangerous secrets. Things worth killing over.
If I reveal my secret to Dryas, he very well might die to
protect me.
The last thing I want is to confront those that hurt me
without him at my side.
But I might not get a choice, if Dryas has his way…








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Author Bio


Olivia Ryann is the dark romance pen name of Wall Street
Journal, USA Today, and Amazon Top 20 Bestseller Vivian Wood. She loves poetic
phrases and bits of melodic memories. She adores dominant, hard men and soft,
fragile women with backbones made of steel. She wants to put them together as
often as possible, in unconventional ways.



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Please Me by Lola StVil



Title: Please Me

Series: Dirty Ever After #2
Author: Lola StVil
Genre: Dark Alpha Standalone

Release Date: March 1, 2019





Blurb


I was a soldier on
leave when we meet at a bar, and I rescued her from some asshole who tried to
grab her. She shouldn’t have been there—she was just 19. She was innocent. She
was running away from a drunken father and a house that never felt like a home.
She wanted me to claim her but she was more than a one-night stand to me. So I
vowed to do right by her. I waited for her and then I proposed. My unit was
called back before I could truly make her mine. It’s been a year since I felt
her touch. But now I’m back and I have only one mission: Make my wife come hard
and as often as possible.







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Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE

MAC


I am sitting at the bar drinking a slightly too warm bottle of beer. Even though the beer isn’t ice cold, it tastes like perfection. Being out in the middle of nowhere on a special ops assignment will definitely make you appreciate the little things in life. Even when they’re not as good as you remember them to be.
It’s kind of like Mission Beach. In my head, I remembered it differently than what it actually is. I remembered it as home, not real home, but somewhere I had happy memories. My mom used to bring me here every summer for a week, and some of my happiest memories were here. But can a place be home when you’re there all alone? Can it be home for Mac Kramer when no one here even knows his name?
Maybe not. The place is like a breeding ground for surfers, tourists, and students. I reckon I’ll be leaving here pretty soon even if I’m not called back to active duty before my time in the military is up.
I sigh loudly and turn on my barstool and scan the crowd. I hear a musical laugh, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the owner of that laugh. My cock stiffens in my jeans just looking at her. If all of the girls in Mission Beach were like her, I’d never ever want to leave the place. She has long blonde hair that hangs down her back in beach-ready waves. Sun-bleached streaks shine in the light. She’s clearly into surfing, judging by the short shorts and vest top she wears and the way the muscles in her fucking awesome legs are so toned. Her whole body is tanned, and I wonder where the tan lines are.
It’s not something to wonder in a public place because I instantly see myself tearing off that little top and throwing it away, taking in her breasts and pink nipples. I see myself pushing her shorts down and fucking her until she’s screaming my name. My cock gets harder, reminding me I’m in the middle of a bar. I pull at my shirt, covering my lap with it. 
The girl looks across the room, and for a second, our eyes meet. I feel a jolt of lust run through me as I look into her eyes. They are the blue of tropical seas, and they have a certain twinkle in them that tells me she’s a little bit naughty. I bet she fucking is. And if she isn’t, I could soon show her exactly how to break the rules.
She smiles at me, and I nod in her direction, forcing my eyes from her body. Now she’s seen me looking at her, I can’t get caught again. She’ll think I’m some sort of pervert. For her, I could be. I could be anything she wanted me to be and then some.
I try to tell myself it’s because I haven’t had a woman in the eight months I’ve been away, but I know it’s not that. There’s something about the girl. Something mesmerizing. Something that tells me she’s exactly what I need to get myself out of this funk and give my life some sort of purpose outside of the military.
I signed up to the military on my eighteenth birthday. Anything to get out of that foster home. My mom raised me alone until I was fifteen and the big C took her. And then I went into the system. I ended up being placed with a family fairly quickly, and I stayed there until I was old enough to leave. It wasn’t that they were mean or abusive. They were the opposite. Warm and kind. They made me feel welcome, loved even, and I am so grateful to them for that. But it was hard to stay there and not love them back. And anytime I felt the slightest hint of love for them, I felt such terrible guilt. My mom was gone, and here I was moving on. Yeah, I know it’s crazy and not what my mom would have wanted, but I couldn’t help feeling it. Maybe I should have had therapy. I definitely should have had therapy.
My eyes go back to Blondie, and I reckon those long legs of hers wrapped tightly around my waist while I claim her pussy would be all the therapy I’d need. She’d sure as hell make me forget everything except her slender body and pert breasts. I’d be willing to bet that her pussy would be tight enough to squeeze my cock to within an inch of its life.
She’s turned away from me now, and I watch her for a minute longer. She’s sitting at a small table tucked away in the back of the bar. She should be on the fucking stage, not hiding herself away like that. She seems to be alone, the girl she was laughing with a moment ago gone. She runs her hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. I feel another twitch from my cock. I want my hands in her hair. I want to grab handfuls of it, pull it, force her to her knees where she’ll suck me dry. And then I want to ruin her. To fuck her so hard and for so long she won’t know which way is up when I’m done with her.
I debate going over there and asking to join her. I mean why not, right? She’s alone, I’m alone. We could share a drink or two, maybe a laugh, and then I could take her home and show her what that body of hers can really do.
Just as I’m getting off my stool, a man approaches her and sits down at her table. He shrugs apologetically, and she laughs. Fucking bastard. I don’t know where he’s been or why, but he left her sitting alone for far too fucking long. If I had been with her, whatever the fuck it was he was doing could have waited. She would have been more important than going to the bathroom or taking a call.
The level of animosity I feel toward the man is nothing compared to the sharp, icy fingers of jealousy that stab at me as I watch him reach out and touch her arm as they talk. How the fuck can I be jealous of someone I’ve never even spoke to? I don’t know, but I am.
I turn back to the bar. I don’t need to watch this any longer. I release my grip on my bottle when I realize I’m holding it tightly enough that it’s about to shatter in my hand. I down the rest of the beer and wave to the bartender for another one.
He obliges, and I thank him and take a long drink. This one is icy cold, much better than the first one, and I would be wholly satisfied now if it wasn’t for the fact I can hear her laughing. The bastard is making her laugh. It should be me. Is it her boyfriend? Husband? Just someone who took a chance on talking to a beautiful woman quicker than I did?
Whatever he is, the thought of him going home with her, holding her, kissing her, and touching her pussy fills me with rage. I want to claim that sexy mouth as mine. I want to be the one to make her come as I claim her pussy. I want to hear her screaming my name. It should be me, not that fucking Joe Nobody.
As much as I tell myself to let it go, I can’t do it and I find myself turning again, almost subconsciously. I feel a cold, empty feeling in my stomach when I look to her table and she’s gone. She’s gone home with the loser. He’s getting to be with her, and I’m stuck here in a bar alone.
I hear her laugh again and the hole is instantly filled, my heart soaring. I follow the sound with my eyes. She’s on the dance floor with the loser, who has two left feet. He scores higher than I do in that category though. There’s no way in hell I would dance in public. Oh, who am I kidding? If she asked me to, I’d be up there like a shot.
Watching her dance is like slow, agonizing torture for me. She sways her hips, showing off her pert ass. She puts her arms in the air and her vest top rides up just enough to show me a flash of her smooth back before it settles back down. I swallow hard, watching her as she turns and sways and moves to the beat.
The man reaches out and puts his hand on her hip. She twists her body away from him, shrugging off his hand without being completely obvious about it. This gets my attention. He’s not her husband or her boyfriend. His touch is making her uncomfortable. She’s not exactly pushing him away though. Maybe she’s just playing hard to get.
When I first saw the man sitting down, I placed him around thirty, but now I can see he’s closer to my age, twenty-three. He’s not acting his age though. He’s acting like a drunken high school jock as he reaches out for her hip again. She neatly sidesteps him and keeps dancing as though she’s oblivious to his advances.
Her sidestep brings her face-to-face with me, and I quickly take a long drink, hoping she didn’t catch me staring at her. I dare to look back. She’s looking at me, smiling. She caught me all right. I laugh a little as she watches me. She doesn’t seem in the least bit concerned about me watching her. She’s certainly no wallflower, not like that quiet table in the corner implied.
The man she’s with spots her smiling at me, and he gets his body between us. Dick. This time, he doesn’t just try to put his hand on her hip. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her body against his.
Even over the music, I hear her telling him to get off her. I hear the fear in her voice and it sends a flare of anger through me. He ignores her, and my temper flares further. I slam my bottle on the bar and get up off the stool. He’s going to fucking pay for scaring her like that.




Also Available


Only 99c + FREE in Kindle Unlimited!!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU



Author Bio


Lola StVil
is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who writes Fantasy in
addition to Contemporary romance. She has written over a dozen books and loves
taking her readers on an emotional roller coaster ride. She is currently living
in California and enjoys staying in touch with her readers.


Author Links