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Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Cover Reveal of INSANITY by XAVIER NEAL

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Title: Insanity

Author: Xavier Neal

Release Date: February 27, 2015

Series: Havoc Series #3

Published by Entertwine Publishing

   
ET Synopsis

When Clint "Grim" Walker left for elite training, he never expected the opportunity that was waiting. Suddenly the only thing he's ever wanted for his career collides with the only woman he's ever loved. Will Clint be able to survive his biggest challenge yet, or be left to suffer pure insanity?

  ET Author Bio

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Xavier Neal

Xavier Neal lives in Texas where she spends her time getting lost in writing, reading, or fandoms she recently discovered. (At the top of that list is Supernatural and BBC Sherlock) Whether she is enjoying books or movies, she continues finding inspiration at every turn to bring more exciting stories to life.
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Cover Reveal for The End Game by Kate McCarthy




Title: The End Game
Author: Kate McCarthy
Cover Design: Mae I Design & Photography
 Release Date: April 7, 2015


Synopsis

“Professional athletes are pillars of their respective communities. They are heroes in the eyes of boys and girls and are expected to conduct themselves in a manner that positively represents their community.”
The public loves a good scandal. Seeing someone fall from the pinnacle of success makes a great headline. No one knows that better than I do. What started out as a promising career in college football, spiraled into scandal and shame.
But being a hero is easier said then done. Especially when there are those who expected to see the great Brody Madden fail. I craved nothing except being the best—willing to do anything to prove them wrong. But I went too far, and I tried too hard, and it broke me.
“At the time of going to print, Jordan Elliott was unavailable for comment.”
I met Brody Madden in my senior year of college. An Australian native on an international scholarship, I was the female soccer sensation with stars in her eyes and no room for a hotshot wide receiver with a chip on his shoulder.
But a heart bursting with ambition and a driving fire to succeed isn’t made of stone. I became his strength, his obsession, and the greatest love of his life. Only I wasn’t there when he needed me most.
This is a story about love and a game that takes everything. Where the path to glory is paved with sacrifice. Where pressure makes you, or breaks you, and triumph is born in the ashes of failure. Where two people’s end game will change everything.







Author Bio


Kate McCarthy is an Australian, living in the pretty sunshine state of Queensland with her two kids and two dogs, Rufus and Pete.

She loves to bake sweet stuff and eat it too. With an exciting degree in business, she works as an accountant by day, and an author by night. In between family life, she is most often found in bed reading, or at the beach, still reading.



Author Links

BOOK BLITZ - Chance by Christina Palmer




Title: Chance
Author: Christina Palmer
Publisher: Ashton Publishing Group
 Release Date: December 30, 2014


Synopsis


Chance plays a part in all of our lives. Charlotte knows this better than most, after all, it was a chance meeting with the darkly handsome Logan Tyler that led to her fairy tale wedding and new life.

But her new life isn't all it seems... Logan isn't all he seems....Charlotte finds herself locked in an abusive and destructive relationship.

In her darkest days, when she has given up all hope, she will discover that all true love needs is just one chance.








Links to Buy


AMAZON US / UK





Author Bio

When I was still in High School, one of my friends smuggled in a book she had found in her Mom's bedside drawer. It was Princess Daisy by Judith Krantz. As a group we giggled over the steamy sex scenes in that book, but I was more than amused, I was intrigued (amongst other things) and asked if I could borrow it.

Well you know what? I never actually gave it back and I realize now, that was the beginning of my love affair with erotica. It wasn't long before I began writing my own erotic stories, all of which are still hiding away in a dusty briefcase in my wardrobe. Apart from an embarrassing discovery by my mother in those earlier days, my experience has been a positive one and I continued writing for my boyfriends and eventually my husband, all of whom loved my work.

At my husbands encouragement I decided to publish one of his favorites "Taking Jenny" onto Kindle last year and 30,000 sales of my stories later, here I am. Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope you continue to enjoy my stories...I have lots more to tell.



Author Links

MANWHORE by Katy Evans Excerpt Reveal!




MANWHORE by Katy Evans
EXCERPT
I look very different than the girl Saint met in his office. But I don’t feel any different. My nerves are frayed to the edges as I give my name to a bouncer at the entrance and I’m allowed into the club, every part of me snug and tight in my dress as my black heels hit the floor.
Whereas M4 was all museum-like, the Ice Box is pure dark decadence. Ice sculptures sit on pedestals around the room. Cages with body-painted dancers hang from the ceiling. A bar with white and blue lights stretches from one wall to another.
Strobe lights flash across the space as I get jostled by the crowd. The bass thumps as the song “Waves” by Mr. Probz plays for the dancing crowd. Drinks are flowing on shiny silver trays, and the drinks are so adorned—by fruits, olives, salt glitter or colorful liquid swirls—they’re like artworks. This isn’t a normal swanky club. It’s the rich boys’ club and everywhere you look are beautiful people wearing beautiful things.
“I met him! God! When he said hi I thought I’d faint…!”
My nerves eat at me as I hear that, because I know for sure they’re talking about him. Trying to breathe, I wind deeper into the club, wishing for Gina so bad I ache. The room is packed with women, some clearly on the hunt, others already paired with someone, a few hanging out with their friends. I breathe slowly, in and out, telling myself I can do this. It’s just a club. I can have some fun. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out to a club, and never a club like this, but it doesn’t matter. I can interview people, and if I’m lucky, I can do more than that.
After scanning the area and trying to find the best spy-spots, I go to the top level and that’s when I get the best look at what’s happening downstairs at the most crowded corner.
And speak of the devil. My heart stops a beat when I see that dark head of his, and that loathed, burning knot in my stomach squeezes with a vengeance. I swear no one in my life has ever made me this nervous.
He sits with his arms stretched out behind him, a wine glass and two women vying for his attention as he chats with his friends. His masculine face is illuminated in certain angles when the lights flash—his beauty unprecedented.
Okay. Breathing. Do I want him to know I’m here or not?
A watery sensation seems to spread down my limbs as I force myself to go downstairs. I wind a path to the ladies’ room and worm myself through the throng of bodies toward a wide mirror above a set of modernist floating sinks. A group of women preen at themselves while I look our reflections. To my right, a woman pouts her red lips, and to my left, her friend pouts her pink ones. Me? I’m still me, but I look extravagant, like I was born here. I look very different than the young girl in coveralls he met. Will he even recognize me like this?
“You going to the after-party?” Red Lips asks Pink Lips as they retouch their lipsticks.
“No key yet.”
“Lookie lookie.” Red Lips waves a keycard in the air.
There’s squealing in the room and she tucks the key into her bra. “Mine!”
“So there’s an after-party?” I ask them.
“At Saint’s penthouse,” one says, nodding.
“How do you get invited to this party?”
“A hundred keys are distributed during the evening.”
A sudden thought of stealing the very key she’s just tucked into her bra flickers through my mind. I mean, it’s just a key. It couldn’t possibly be a felony.
“Babe,” she tells me, “stop giving my key the eye! I’ve been waiting three years to get a key like this. Go and work your ass out there if you want one. Only the finest asses make it.”
“Thanks,” I say, turning to look at my ass in the mirror questioningly. Gina says I’ve got a great ass. It’s perky and the perfect handful, some would say. But would Saint say that?
I sigh and lean against the wall, then I spot all the little writings on an open stall door. I narrow my eyes, forcing my focus.
Malcolm for my baby-daddy
I sucked Saint’s cock
Tahoe rammed me right here
Callan licks cunt like a caveman
I head back into the noise and try to find a good spot for spying when I see him again. The two women won’t leave his side and now my stomach for some reason feels jumpy, annoying me. One of the blondes takes a shot from the waiter, licks the rim, and then adds salt.
Saint edges back and watches her with an expression of casual boredom, but his lips are curled, as if he’s having some fun.
I’m so engrossed watching—a little too fascinated and a little bit disgusted—I don’t realize a guard has walked up to me until he’s right in my face. He signals to the back of the room—to where Saint’s best friends are now watching me. Saint isn’t even looking my way. Oh no, he’s too busy being entertained, still wearing that almost-bored smile. Maybe they need to take their tops off to get him excited?
All three men fit in perfectly with the lavish surroundings, but I can’t look at the other two. Only at Malcolm. Malcolm’s dark good looks blend with the shadows like Hades in his own little corner of hell.
Suddenly he laughs over something one of the blondes does and he turns a little, his eyes landing straight on me—and stopping there.
I feel his stare like a hit of adrenaline. I want to look away, but I can’t, I feel trapped. I don’t know if I made this up but I could’ve sworn his chest jerked as if he sucked in a breath.
Does he recognize me?  
Do I want him to?
Suddenly the atmosphere is so heavy I can’t breathe. My lungs feel like rocks and I really can’t breathe. As he rakes me in one fast, complete sweep of his eyes that makes my stomach grip nervously, he takes in my pumps up to my long blonde hair, and I become aware of my dress hugging the top of my thighs, my hips, my abdomen, my breasts and even my ass. Oh god. I force myself to follow the guard in his direction, every step accelerating my heartbeat. In that black suit and without a tie, the top button of his shirt open and his hair a bit rumpled, Saint is the embodiment of luxurious and decadent and sin. He is Sin Itself and I feel like an absolute…virgin.
He stretches his long legs out before him, his stare fixed on mine without any seeming inclination to move away.
“Mr. Saint,” the guard clears his throat. “The gentlemen had me summon her.”
Although his smile doesn’t waver, the look on his face is completely remote and unreadable.
            “Here she is, gentlemen,” the guard then tells the other two—the blond and the copper-haired men looking at me like lunch.
“Tahoe,” the blonde says.
            “Callan,” the copper-haired says.
             Saint merely pats the blondes on the butt and sends them on her way, then he reaches out to take my elbow somehow in an instinctive gesture that brings me a strange sense of comfort. I don’t know anybody else here, so when he tugs me to his side, I go down and sit next to him on the edge of the long booth.
And that’s when he leans his dark head over to me and murmurs, “Malcolm.” His voice is so deep and rumbling, I shiver.
“Rachel,” I lamely offer.
He raises his eyebrow and stares at me. What are you doing here, Rachel? he seems to ask.
I’m wondering what to say, when Tahoe lifts his drink and drains it. “You’re up past your bedtime.” The Texan oil baby. Oozing charm, drawling out the words.
I don’t know why but I’m acutely aware of the position of Saint’s body in relation to mine. He just straightened fully in the booth and somehow shifted so his arm is very noticeably stretched out behind me.
“Like they say, no rest for the wicked,” I answer Tahoe with an extra-wide smile, my heart pounding over Saint’s nearness.
Suddenly I can smell him. Just him. Among all the mingled scents in the room, it’s Saint somehow in my lungs, in every breath. He radiates a vitality that draws me like a magnet. It unnerves me but something in his presence, so close to me, soothes me too.
“Apparently there’s a dress code—Saint had to drop his tail and horns at the door,” Callan jokes as a waiter sets a drink before me.
“Oh yes.” I tug the hem of my skirt self-consciously, “I had to drop half my dress.”
“Did you now?” Tahoe asks.
“T.”
One word, one letter, from Malcolm.
“Yeah, Saint?” Tahoe returns, lifting his eyebrows.
“Dibs.”
I almost spit out the drink. I cough and slam my hand to my chest, and Saint calmly reaches out to take my drink from my hand and sets it aside.  “Okay?” he asks, ducking his head and peering into my face.
I give one last cough and squeeze my eyes shut and nod, and when I open my eyes, Saint is the only thing I see. I find him staring at me in such a penetrating way I can feel the stare in my bones.
“Did you just get to the party, Rachel?” he asks.
As he waits for my reply, he reaches for my cocktail and extends the glass out to me. His wrist is thick and looks so strong, so golden, his skin smooth, his arm dusted with a little bit of hair as I cautiously take it from him, our fingers brushing.
Tahoe reaches for his coat pocket and waves whatever he extracted in the air. “Saint! May I?”
Excitement leaps in my chest when I realize it’s the key!
“Not happening, that’s not her scene,” Malcolm murmurs besides me.
“Aw! Come on, let me give her a key. She’s a dime, man,” Tahoe drawls.
I’m so disbelieving, I’m not even breathing as Malcolm slowly stands. I follow him up, staring up into his face in confusion.
“What do you mean it’s not my scene?” I demand. I feel like there’s no gravity when he stands so close to me. I’m dizzy. Confused. And unexpectedly hurt.
For the first time since we met, he looks at me like he’s actually losing his temper…with me. He leans closer and puts his lips close to my ear. “Trust me when I tell you, it’s not your scene. Go home,” he whispers. He sends me a look laden with warning and walks away, blending into the crowd.
Tahoe and Callan stare at me, speechless. “That’s a first,” Tahoe mumbles and heads away.
I feel myself burn in humiliation and confusion. Worse is that, when I go outside, the same man who drove us around the day before walks over to me.
“Miss Livingston, a pleasure to drive you,” he says, hanging up his phone as if Saint just called him. He is a huge man, with a bald head, an earpiece, and no expression. A second later, he’s opening the car door of the Rolls for me.
Seriously?
Did Saint call him just now and ask him to escort me home?
Aware of people staring and seeing me being led to Saint’s car, I climb into the back of the car and I murmur my thanks simply because it’s not this man’s fault.
The car smells new and expensive and, like him. A bottle of wine and water bottles ride with me. There’s music in the background and the temperature is just right. The perfect luxury of it all tempts me to run my hands down my dress and look down at myself in confusion. What is wrong with me?
I feel as if he pulled the rug from under me and reminded me what I’m up against. The top of the species. Somebody ruthless.
I can’t take the heat in the back of my ears and on my cheeks. I sag on the backseat and set my forehead on the window. Focus, Livingston! Exhaling, I grab my phone and try to write down all the details about what I saw, but I can’t right now. I just can’t do anything but ride here, in his car, wondering why I feel so vulnerable.

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COMING SOON
Amazon Paperback: http://amzn.to/16oqqTO
RELEASE DATE: March 24th
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MANWHORE
book #1 of ‘the manwhore series’
Is it possible to expose Chicago’s hottest player—without getting played?
This is the story I’ve been waiting for all my life, and its name is Malcolm Kyle Preston Logan Saint. Don’t be fooled by that last name though. There’s nothing holy about the man except the hell his parties raise. The hottest entrepreneur Chicago has ever known, he’s a man’s man with too much money to spend and too many women vying for his attention.
Mysterious. Privileged. Legendary. His entire life he’s been surrounded by the press as they dig for tidbits to see if his fairytale life is for real or all mirrors and social media lies. Since he hit the scene, his secrets have been his and his alone to keep. And that’s where I come in.
Assigned to investigate Saint and reveal his elusive personality, I’m determined to make him the story that will change my career.
But I never imagined he would change my life. Bit by bit, I start to wonder if I’m the one discovering him…or if he’s uncovering me.
What happens when the man they call Saint, makes you want to sin?


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About the Author:
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Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!


Email: authorkatyevans@gmail.com



THANK YOU!

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Take by Nashoda Rose Cover Reveal


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Cover Reveal

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Book Title: Take (scars of the wraiths)
Author: Nashoda Rose 
Genre: Paranormal Romance 
Release Date: Feb. 24, 2015 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

MAX


Feelings are a luxury I can’t afford. Hidden behind a shield of quiet placidity, I keep my secret safe from those who’d use it against me. Until him—the tatted up, self-centered Scar assassin hired to protect me.


He takes pleasure in tormenting me, chipping away at my defenses as if I’m a toy to be played with. I hate that he continuously reminds me that I’m nothing more than a job. I hate that my body responds to his touch. I hate him.


JASPER


I’m not a good guy and I don’t pretend to be. Condemn me if you want, I don’t give a fuck. You’re nothing to me. No one is … except her—Max. She’s my target. And I was hired to do a hell of a lot more than protect her … I was hired to kill her.

It should’ve been simple, but it was complicated as hell.


*erotic paranormal romance. Standalone full-length novel. Come meet the Scars.

Scars: Immortal warriors with capabilities derived from the senses: Trackers, Sounders, Healers, Tasters, Visionaries, and the rare Reflectors. They each have what is known as an Ink, a tattoo that can be called life.

excerpt

“How long since you fucked a guy?”

“What?” Her arms moved as if she was about to cross them over her breasts and then decided against it and put them back at her sides. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Because when I fuck you, it will be hard. I need to know if you can take it.” I’d expected her to grab her shirt and put it back on. That was what I had intended. To scare her. Instead, she stared at me as she undid her bra and let it fall to the floor.

Fuck.

I was a guy. A guy that didn’t give a shit if a woman hated me in the morning, but they never did. I may be a selfish bastard but I never left a woman unsatisfied. And it was more a self-serving reason as I could always get seconds when I wanted. But this was different. Everything about it was different. Max was different.

And that should’ve scared me enough to walk away.

But Max … staring at her milky white naked skin … her handful of breasts with nipples erect and waiting for my mouth to be sucking on them. I should’ve walked back into the bathroom, shut the door and jerked myself off in the shower.

I didn’t.

 
Teaser

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Meet the Author

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Nashoda Rose is a New York Times bestselling author who lives in Toronto with her assortment of pets. She writes contemporary romance with a splash of darkness, or maybe it’s a tidal wave. When she isn’t writing, she can be found sitting in a field reading with her dogs at her side while her horses graze nearby. She loves interacting with her readers on Facebook and chatting about her addiction—books.

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