Friday, December 4, 2015

The Redemption of Roan Author: Kathy Coopmans ****EXCERPT REVEAL****

Title: The Redemption of Roan
Author: Kathy Coopmans

****EXCERPT REVEAL****

“Dance with me?”
 Her eyes glimmer. The most captivating smile spreads across her face. Taking her beer out of her hand, I set it down on the table next to me. I gently pull her into my arms. Her body presses firmly to mine. Her hands twine around my neck. God, she feels so good. It’s as if she was made to be here in my arms. We sway slowly. Clapton’s deep velvety voice is speaking the truth. She does look wonderful.
“You surprise me at every turn, Mr. Diamond.” Her breath is so close to my ear. I’ve never danced with a woman before. I have no clue what the hell I’m even doing. All I know is she spears my thoughts. I can’t stop thinking about her. I could easily become addicted to this euphoria as much as I’m already addicted to her well-being. I’m in way over my damned head. I know so much about her, yet I feel like there is so much more to learn. I’m turning into one of those fuck-puppets. She has me dangling on a damn string and doesn’t even fucking know it. Alina has the upper hand here without knowing much about me. I chastise myself mentally to move slowly, to learn about her more intimately. Not in a sexual way. She needs to know she can trust me. I wonder what’s going through her mind right now. My mind is screaming at me to find out things about her I don’t know, while my dick is trying to fight its way out of my pants. Yeah, well forget it, buddy. She will definitely be worth the wait.
“That’s the plan.” My voice is gruff.
 She squeals slightly when I dip her back, her long naked neck exposed. It’s my tongue this time that wants to reach out and run up her graceful neck. Lick her lazily, seductively. I rein him in. Keep my mouth shut. I bring her back up, spinning her slowly then bringing her back into me. I need to tie my dick up with my tongue, this way they’ll both shut the hell up.
“Are you a romantic?”
 Our mouths are not even an inch apart.
 “I’ve never had anyone to romance before.”
 I’m speaking the truth. My hand instinctively reaches up and caresses her cheek.
“You are astoundingly beautiful in every way a woman should be.”
The music keeps playing. It switched to a different song. I’m so caught up in her I couldn’t tell you the name of the song if my life depended on it. It’s slow and sensual, exactly the same way we are swaying back and forth. There’s no lead and follow between us. We’re two people attracted to each other.
 We’ve stopped moving. My hand is still stroking her cheek. Her eyes dart to my lips. My plan was to go slow with her. To not even kiss hertonight before I took her home. To let her know I respect her in every way.  But I can’t seem to help myself. My face leans in slowly, knowing I only get one first kiss with this woman. I could devour her with my mouth, clue her in and let her know specifically what she does to me. Instead, when my lips brush across her soft lips, a spark ignites in me. I’ve often wondered if the truth stands behind what happens when two electric currents collide. I feel it. The heat is slowly building up, then vaporizing in an extremely hot explosion.
 Darting my tongue out, I slowly glide it across her bottom lip. She exhales, opening wider, clinging her mouth to mine. My plan was to control this kiss, but she takes complete control, which shocks the shit out of me. I’ll let her for now. She shows no sign at all of her sweet innocence, her lack of experience. Those tantalizing plump lips feel better than I ever thought they would. She’s kissing me like she’s never been kissed before. Bringing my other hand up to hold her in place, I tilt her head to the perfect angle. Her tongue darts out first, slowly meshing with mine. I lose all control then, devouring her mouth with mine. Our tongues play war with one another, each one trying to demolish the other. Fuck me all the way back to Michigan. I am so totally screwed. Totally fucked.


Cover Reveal ~ The Perfect Life by Erin Noelle


Title: The Perfect Life
Author: Erin Noelle
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 17


Cover Design: Hang Le


I had the perfect life.
The perfect husband. Colin Cassidy—the incredibly talented, extremely gorgeous, and unbelievably humble star NFL quarterback.
The perfect marriage. Our bond was unbreakable. His support unwavering.
The perfect career. As the recently-appointed executive director for the Boston chapter of Mending Hearts, a child abuse prevention and treatment program, my daily reward was helping to keep vulnerable, innocent children from being preyed upon and destroyed. It’s all I’d wanted to do since I was a teenager.
Perfect city. Perfect car. Perfect house with the perfect view.
From the outside looking in, it was impossible to find a single flaw in my life. I had it all. Everything I’d ever wanted.
But that kind of perfection came at a price. Demanded the ultimate sacrifice.
What happened when I discovered what I’d been missing all along? When I began to question if the lies were worth protecting?
What if suddenly the last thing I wanted was to be perfect?

Pre-Order Special 99¢

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU




Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child.
A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels.
Her titles published include the Book Boyfriend Series, the Dusk ‘Til Dawn Series, the Luminous Duet, Conspire — co-authored with SE Hall, Surviving Us, MILF: Wrong Kind of Love, Spark and Flame.
Her books have been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.
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Excerpt - Bridgetown High by Paul W. West

Title: Bridgetown High

Author: Paul W. West

Genre: Young Adult, Detective Romance

Published: October 6, 2015

Published By: Limitless Publishing LLC
Seventeen year old Mark Wilkerson has no memory of the fiery crash that killed his family on the Carquinez Bridge…



Living with his grandmother and burdened with guilt, Mark vows to find the hit-and-run driver and take his revenge. The only detail he remembers is round taillights swerving in front of his family’s car, and he’s shocked when he notices the car of the high school’s bully, Jeff Marino, has identical taillights—and a suspicious dent.



Now he wants revenge more than ever…



Jeff believes Mark is an anti-Vietnam War activist like his cousin Gary—and despises him for it. To make matters worse, when Jeff’s girlfriend Genie Lombardi dumps him for Mark, it kicks Jeff’s hatred for him to a dangerous new level.



Lies and threats escalate, until drugs and a shocking death send Jeff over the edge, and his campaign to get Genie back any way he can turns violent.
When Mark’s memory begins to return, it leads to a terrifying confrontation.
Will he finally prove the identity of the guilty driver? Or will he and Genie become one more tragedy associated with the Carquinez Bridge?


BRIDGETOWN HIGH


CHAPTER 1


If Mark Wilkerson had to listen to any more of that morbid organ music, he was going to throw up. A migraine beat against his temples, and tears rolled down his cheeks as he stood propped against his crutches, his dislocated shoulder aching. Through bleary eyes, he viewed the three closed coffins at the front of the viewing parlor. Gold glitter on white satin ribbons across the caskets read, “Devoted Father,” “Loving Mother,” and “Baby Sister – Sabrina.” She was only six.

Ornate floral arrangements surrounded the closed caskets, their florist shop fragrance adding to Mark’s migraine. He ran his hand across the smooth surface of his mother’s coffin; fingered the satin ribbon. She was in there, at least what was left of her, but he would never see her again. Never again would he feel the warm touch of her lips on his cheek when she kissed him good night.

His weepy eyes abruptly gushed with tears. What happened? He still wondered, shaking his head. Even though he’d somehow survived the accident, he still didn’t know anything about it. All he knew was what the County Sheriff’s deputy and the doctor at the hospital had told him that he and his family had been in a tragic, fiery accident on the Carquinez Bridge on Christmas Eve.

The doctor also told him his memory would probably return, but it could take some time. He’d called it “dissociative amnesia," whatever that was. He said it was often caused by severe emotional trauma.

Mark’s grandmother, Emily Wilkerson, told him he’d performed with the family at a rest home earlier that night, but he couldn’t remember that either. He felt, more than remembered his father had been angry about something. Then there was Amanda Bonfili. What happened on their date? Or did they have a date? He just couldn’t remember.

Mark moved to his father’s casket. How could he live without him? His dad had been his greatest inspiration, his best friend. He looked down at the casket as his tears rolled. How could he live with the guilt of knowing their last words may have been spoken in anger? He’d never even had a chance to say I’m sorry, if he’d done something wrong or even good-bye. Somehow, he felt he might have been at least partly responsible for the accident. “Forgive me, dad.” His cries escaped his lips in a whisper, “for whatever I did. I’m sorry.” Tears stung his eyes and he wiped them on his sports jacket sleeve.

He wished he could see his family just one last time, but the undertaker had told him their bodies were too charred. The thought horrified him, and Mark agreed it would be better to remember them as he’d last seen them alive.

At least his sister, Amy, was being spared the funeral ordeal. But she was still in a coma and her condition was serious. The doctors said she could have brain damage if she survived. That sounded worse than his amnesia.

The accident had only been three days ago, and tomorrow, after the funeral, the coffins would be lowered into the cold ground. Is that all there is to life? Mark wondered, To live your life, then be discarded like some trash. Hanging his head, he wished he could have died in their place, or at least with them. How Amy and he had survived was a mystery.

Moving to Sabrina’s casket, he laid his forehead against her tiny coffin. “Dear God! Please make this go away. Make them come back.” But even as he prayed, he knew God couldn’t make that happen, assuming He was even real. After all, why would an all-powerful, loving God take away the people he loved most; his parents, and his six-year-old sister who had so much to live for, the family Amy and he needed?

Why? The question kept repeating over in his mind, as he wiped his eyes again. Why did his parents have to die, and of all people little Sabrina?

SABRINA! Mark wanted to shout, as if it would bring her back.

He missed his baby sister every bit as much as he missed his mother and father.

“Sabrina,” he whispered.

He would never see her again. Tears rolled down his cheeks as Mark thought of her charred little body inside the tiny coffin and the pain she must have endured in the fire. She didn’t deserve to die.

Mark felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Straightening with his crutches, he leaned into his grandmother’s arms. “Go ahead and cry,” she said. “It’s good to let it out.”

Mark leaned down and laid his cheek in the hollow of her neck. He could smell her sweet, old ladies perfume. “Why?” he asked. “Why didn’t God protect them? Why did He let Sabrina die and not me? She didn’t even get a chance to live her life.” He turned away and tightened his fists on the crutch’s handgrip.

He felt his grandmother’s warm fingers turn his chin. “Mark, I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me too, and it will be hard on Amy when she comes home.” His grandmother choked on her words, then blotted her eyes with her hankie, “if she does. Son, we don’t always understand why He allows things like this to happen, but my mother always told me, ‘what we see today as a tragedy, we may look back at tomorrow as a blessing.’” Emily hugged him tighter and stroked his hair.

“A blessing? How can losing almost my entire family ever be a blessing?” Mark huffed and pulled away. His head throbbed even more. Then, looking back at his grandmother, he said, “If I ever find out who caused the accident, I swear… I’ll… I’ll kill him…. I promise that.”

“No, Mark. Don’t think like that. It was just that, an accident. You need to forgive them.”

“I can’t, Grandma. I just can’t.”
Paul West is a freelance writer and novelist. Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, Paul claims to be a "Prune Picker," though he now makes his home in Taylorsville, Utah.



The rustic San Francisco Bay Area countryside, the quaint small town in which he grew up, and the colorful people who once lived there, have all teamed to fertilize his ever-churning mind with stories that are yearning to be told.



From his earliest days in high school, his English teachers saw some raw writing ability in him, both for fiction and non-fiction, and urged him to pursue his dream of being a writer. In college his creative writing professors also encouraged him to mold his ability into a talent.



After settling on a career as an environmental biologist, where he's written numerous technical publications, the stories swarming through his mind kept crying to get out. So Paul began writing fiction, but only as a hobby at first. He has recently finished his first novel, BRIDGETOWN HIGH, and is working on his second. Paul intends to keep letting his stories out through future novels.



Paul is the originator and former moderator of a private critique known as ""The Writer's Pen,"" a sub forum in the ""Authors by Design"" web site (now defunct). He is also a member of Query Tracker forum; and Children's Writer's & Illustrator's forum; Utah Children's Writers forum; among others. In addition to his writing, he and his wife, enjoy spending time with their four children and thirteen grandchildren, gardening, reading, traveling, and researching their family history.

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FINAL DEBT by Pepper Winters Release Blitz!


final debt release blitz.jpg final debt it's life.jpg
More Jethro & Nila?  Yes Please!
Read the exciting conclusion & Bonus Epilogue NOW!
FINAL Debt is LIVE!
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Yl9Utp
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1Lrh31X

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Blurb

The Last Book in the New York Times Bestselling Dark Romance Series.
Where love tries to triumph and darkness continues to reign....

"I'm in love with her, but it might not be enough to stop her from becoming the latest victim of the Debt Inheritance. I know who I am now. I know what I must do. We will be together--I just hope it's on Earth rather than in heaven."

It all comes down to this.

Love versus life.

Debts versus death.

Who will win?

There is also a BONUS BOOK: Indebted Epilogue OUT NOW.

Review

This series just completely blew me away and I loved every written word of this story. I have never read anything that has entangled itself into my psyche more than this series. After reading Final Debt, I literally could not shut my brain down. Everything about the Final Debt was amazing, it ended exactly the way it should and I am so grateful to Pepper for sharing her gift with us.

Final Debt was the perfect end to this series for Nila and Jethro, well really, for all the character of the Indebted Series. The way Pepper writes her characters with emotion pulls you in to the story and doesn’t let you go until the very last page. The complexity of her writing style is one of its own. This book takes the Indebted Series to a whole new level and leaves Pepper in her own league with this series.

It was asked on her Facebook page what we loved about the Indebted Series, how can you love just one thing about it when it is such a complex series? The characters, the history, the love, the hate, the hurt… secrets, lies, loyalty----- there is so much to this series that I don’t even think it can be classified in one certain genre. If you are lover of originality in your stories, you need this book, this series, this author in your life today.

5 Well Deserved, Fantastic Star again and again and again!


Reviewed by Tonya Nichols of Eye Candy Bookstore


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Indebted Epilogue ONLY $0.99

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1O7zrmG
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1Qt3bvR

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Excerpt: Final Debt


“READY TO DIE, Nila?”
Cut’s voice physically hurt me as he forced me to my knees. The ballroom splendour mocked me as I bowed unwillingly at the feet of my executioner.
Velvet and hand-stitched crewel on the walls glittered like the diamonds the Hawks smuggled—a direct contrast to the roughly sawn wood and crude craftsmanship of the guillotine dais. No finesse. No pride. Just a raised podium, framework cushioning a large tarnished blade, and a rope dangling to the side.
“Don’t do this. Cut…think about what you’ve become. You can stop this.” My voice mimicked a beg but I’d vowed not to beg. I’d seen things, understood things, and suffered things I never thought I would be able to endure. I refused to cry or grovel. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
“In five minutes, this will all be over, Weaver.” Cut bent to the side and collected a wicker basket.
The wicker basket.
I didn’t want to think about what its contents would be.
He placed it on the other side of the wooden block.
My lungs demanded more oxygen. My brain demanded more time. And my heart…it demanded more hope, more life, more love.
I’m not ready.
Not like this.
“Cut—”
“No. No more talking. Not after everything you’ve done.” Ripping a black hood from his pocket, he didn’t hesitate. No fanfare. No second guesses.
I cried out as the scratchy blackness engulfed my face, tightening by a cord around my throat.
The Weaver Wailer chilled me. The diamond collar that’d seen what I’d seen and whispered with phantoms of my slain family prepared to revoke its claim and detach from around my neck.
This was it.
The Final Debt.
Cut pushed my shoulders forward.
A heavy yoke settled over the top of my spine.
I closed my eyes.
I said goodbye.
I waited to die.

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One Week Earlier

“NO!”
I pushed back, gripping the handrails of the private jet, throwing my weight against Daniel’s incessant pushing. “Stop!”
“Get up the fucking stairs, Weaver.” Daniel jabbed his elbow into my spine.
I stumbled, bashing my knee against the high tread. “You can’t do this!” How had this happened? How had mere hours turned the entire universe against me? Again.
I wanted to smash every clock. Tear out the cog from every watch.
Time had once again stolen my life.
Jethro!
Daniel cackled. “I think you’ll find we can.” He shoved me higher.
My heart hurt—as if every mile between us and Hawksridge was a blade slicing me further from Jethro’s protection—a disharmony in an already discorded symphony.
One moment, I’d been love-bruised and adored, tiptoeing back into the Hall; the next, I was trapped, forced to dress in jeans and a hoodie, and obey Daniel as he lurked in my doorway, barking orders to pack a few meagre belongings.
He hadn’t left me alone.
His eyes followed my every move. I couldn’t grab the gun I’d hidden thanks to Jasmine. I couldn’t text Jethro to tell him I’d been caught. All I could do was run around my room with my lover’s release still damp on my inner thighs and submit to my nemesis.
The only saving grace was beneath Daniel’s hateful stare, I’d managed to pack the clothing I’d altered a few weeks ago. The cuffs full of needles and hems armoured with tools of my seamstress trade. Those garments were my only hope. There was no loophole. No way to refuse.
I had to trust Jasmine would get word to Jethro. That he would come for me…
Before it’s too late.
The desolation I’d suffered when Daniel first caught me faded to indignant anger. I’d been so close to being free. I’d been in Jethro’s arms. I’d been away from his psychotic family. My heart hardened a little toward Jethro for making me go back.
Why? Why did you send me back?
I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to forgive him.
You know why. And you will. Of course, you will.
I couldn’t hate him because I wasn’t selfish. He’d sent me back to protect all of us. Those precious few who’d accepted him and he’d accepted in return. Love was the worst enemy, winding its commitment, ensuring no freedom when it came to clearheaded thinking of adversity.
Jethro loved too much. Felt too much. Suffered too much. And his siblings would be our downfall. Kestrel and Jasmine relied on him—just like I did. The responsibility of settling his family’s wrongs was a terrible burden to bear.
But he’s not alone.
I might’ve been stolen. Jethro’s plans to save me might be ruined. But I was still alive. Still breathing. I wasn’t the naïve girl who’d first arrived at Hawksridge. I was a woman in love with a Hawk. A Weaver who would draw Hawk blood.
It’s not over…
Pain exploded in my spine as Daniel stabbed me with his fist. “Get in the fucking airplane.”
“No!” I threw myself backward, looking frantically at the private hangar. We weren’t at Heathrow, but a small, private airfield called Turweston. “I won’t!”
No strangers I could call for help.
No police or air marshals.
When Daniel had stalked me from my room and shoved me outside, Cut had been waiting. With a victorious smile, he’d stuffed me in the back of a limousine.
With a purring engine, we’d pulled away from Hawksridge, tyres crunching on gravel as we followed the long driveway off the estate.
My eyes had scoured the trees, their silhouettes growing stronger as the sun tinted the sky with pink blushes. Daniel and Cut sat opposite me, toasting each other with a chilled bottle of champagne. However, I hadn’t been alone on my side of the limo—I had a guard.
Marquise, Bonnie’s damn henchman, sat beside me; a mountain of muscle, unyielding and impenetrable.
“Come along.” A strange voice raised my gaze.
A man in a captain’s uniform smiled from the top of the aircraft steps. The private plane’s fuselage glinted in graphite grey. Sparkling diamonds, inlaid in the shape of a windswept ribbon, decorated the tail.
“I don’t want to leave England.”
Daniel laughed behind me. “Like you have a choice.”
“I always have a choice, Buzzard.” I glowered over my shoulder. “Just like this choice of yours will not end well for you.”
If I don’t kill you, Jethro will.
As far as Daniel knew, his slain brother was supposedly rotting in some unmarked grave. Jethro was right. The element of surprise trumped any of Cut and Daniel’s grand delusions.
He snarled, “Watch it, bitch. Everything you say to me here will be paid in full when we’re there.”
“Now, now. No need for threats.” The captain climbed down a rung, holding out his hand. “She’ll get on board. Won’t you, my dear? No need to be afraid of flying. I have an exemplary record.” White hair tufted from either side of his pristine flying cap. In his mid-fifties, he looked fit and toned and impatient to take off.
“I can’t leave.”
I can’t be so far from Jethro.
The captain smiled, waving at his vessel. “Of course, you can. Plus, I bet you’ve never travelled in such style.”
“It’s nothing against your mode of transport. It’s the destination I disagree to. I’m staying here.” I dug my heels into the metal grate, fighting against Daniel’s perpetual pushing. “I don’t have my passport, visa… I can’t travel across borders, so you might as well let me return home.”
Home.
Had Hawksridge Hall become my home?
No, don’t be absurd.
But Jethro had. It didn’t matter where we ended up. What we did for work. How our lives panned out. As long as I was alive with Jethro by my side…I would be home.
“Don’t fuss about that.” The captain waved his hand in invitation. “Travel is good for the soul.”
Not my soul.
Travel meant my soul would become untethered from my body, thanks to Cut and the Final Debt.
The sun barely peeked over the horizon, hidden by soupy fog and reluctant night. The world refused to warm, unable to shed the morning frost or dislodge the claws of winter. England didn’t want to say goodbye as much as I did, its reluctant dawn wanting me to stay.
“If you don’t get on the motherfucking plane in two seconds, Weaver, you’ll live to regret it,” Daniel growled.
I glared at the youngest Hawk. “Haven’t you learned by now your threats don’t scare me?”
Forcing myself to stand taller, I hid the quaking in my bones, the quivering in muscles, the rampant terror scurrying in my blood. “I know where you want to take me, and I refuse.”
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. A second later, he cuffed me on the back of the head. “Behave!”
I gritted my teeth against the wash of agony.
“Almasi Kipanga is a fucking treat for the likes of you, Weaver. Get on your knees and show some goddamn appreciation. Otherwise, I’ll rip out your fucking tongue and ensure peace for the rest of the trip.”
“Ah, as I said, there’s no need for violence.” The captain took another step, prying my hand off the railing and tugging me upward. “Come along, my dear. Let’s get you inside. And don’t you worry about visas and things. Leave it to me. Airport control won’t be an issue.”
Vertigo cast the world in monochromatic greys as I swayed toward the captain. “But—”
Cut barrelled past Daniel—reaching the end of his patience. Grabbing my arse, he shoved me upward, forcing me like unwilling livestock up the final steps. “I have your passport, Nila. Get on the plane.” His breath skated over the back of my neck. “And don’t think about refusing again. Got it?”
Gripping the fuselage, I looked over my shoulder. “My passport? How did you—”
He waved a black binder in my face. “Everything is in here. You have no more excuses, and I won’t ask again. Get on the fucking plane or I’ll knock you out and you can wake up when we get there.”

Series Reading Order
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Debt Inheritance (Indebted #1) FREE

First Debt (Indebted #2)
Second Debt (Indebted #3)

Third Debt (Indebted #4)

Fourth Debt (Indebted #5)




Final Debt (Indebted #6)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Yl9Utp
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1Lrh31X

Indebted Epilogue (Indebted #7)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1O7zrmG
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1Qt3bvR
About the Author:
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Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)

Her Grey Romance books include:
Destroyed

STALK Pepper: Website | Pinterest | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads




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