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Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Blog Tour - Mastered by the Mavericks by Angel Payne

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The first step to solving a problem...
Brynna Monet is on a man diet for the rest of her life. No more G men, spies, or soldiers, period. Willpower comes easily from the scars on her heart, left by a string of dominant bad boys who have all asked too high a price for her passion: her trust.

But what ransom will she give for her best friend's life? 
When the unspeakable happens, Brynn insists on courting temptation in every hot, dangerous sense of the word--times two. In order to save her friend from the captivity of a madman, 
Brynn is assigned as a secret consultant on one of the military's riskiest missions, working with a pair of the Special Forces' most notorious bad boys: Rhett Lange and Rebel Stafford.
...is admitting you've got one.
From the moment Brynn lands in the middle of a Texas wilderness with these two, she questions the sanity of her decision--and the survival of her willpower. Like the most decadent dominant dessert, Rhett and Rebel embody everything her body craves--and her spirit fears. Their control unravels her fantasies, their command exposes her desire...and their courage, with themselves as well as the monster they chase, moves her heart. 
But, like all dreams-come-true, it's temporary.
Though Brynn submits to her lovers, she knows better than to give up her trust--until the fate of the mission hinges on exactly that. Can Brynn face her biggest fear to save a friend's life--but still know her soul at the end?
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Excerpt
Rhett watched the yes fire up her eyes before it lifted her lips. The light, piercing as dawn through autumn leaves, mesmerized him just as thoroughly—until she turned to give its magic to Reb—Who was just as worthy of the words.

Mesmerizing. Magical.

Christ. He’d never seen Moon look like this. The man illuminated rooms no matter where they went, but his luminosity always copied the celestial satellite he was nicknamed after, borrowing the glow from something else. Now, for the first time in their friendship, the joy on Rebel’s face was an inner thing, inspired by something that was purely his…

Magnified as they locked eyes once more.

The guy’s happiness ricocheted at Rhett like a rocket, decimating his chest with its intensity. Rebel had gotten it—thank God. Had understood everything Rhett was trying to communicate with this proposition. Though he couldn’t give Reb that extra step in their relationship—fuck, regularfriendship still wasn’t something he knew how do correctly—this was his way of trying. A bridge, in the form of this beautiful, passionate woman, to at least connect them halfway. And God only knew, all three of them needed reconnection right now. No guilt. No strings. Just heat, desire, bonding, fulfillment. Just this. Just now. It was a win-win-win.

He really liked those odds.

“Rebel?”

Brynna’s query reminded him that Moon hadn’t verbally weighed in on things yet. Psshh. A formality, really. Rhett almost bellowed the hell, yes on behalf of his friend.

Damn good thing he didn’t.

Whoa. Rebel really had become a different person. The usual Moonstormer would have been jumping on this invite like it was engraved in gold from the Playboy Mansion. A let’s-get-naked playdate, with Brynna and him, no regrets or rearviews attached? Why the idiot wasn’t dropping trou this second, instead of taking a step back from them both, was a deepening mystery.

“Reb?” Rhett issued his own cautious prompt. “You down or not?” And did he really have to voice it?

Rebel looked up—exposing the bright blue flashes in his gaze. “Oh, I’m down.” He moved back in, slipping one hand over Brynna’s, before spreading her fingers over his crotch. The swell beneath his track pants visibly jumped, stretching a cock-shaped silhouette into the black cotton.

Rhett barely stopped himself from swaying.

Goddamn, that was a stunning sight.

A gulp pounded down his throat. How the hell had this happened? He’d always been an open-minded guy, but as a whole, cock did nothing for him. In prep schools since the age of ten and cross-country at RIT, he’d been in enough group showers to know it as a sure thing. Pussy was definitely more his thing. Soft. Supple. Tender. Tasty.

But the cock in those pants wasn’t just any cock. It belonged to the guy who knew him better than anyone else. The man who’d seen enough ugliness in his life not to be bothered about the strange journey of his. The guy who understood what it was like to take life in chunks of now instead of pining for the past or stressing about the future, because none of it mattered if a bomb blew your face away. The man who was more his family than the people with whom he shared DNA. His brother in arms, his friend in all times of need—and in so many ways, his soulmate.

Who’d understand, more than anyone, his need to deal with this shit by making light of it. “Looks like you’re up for it too, dude.”

Rebel didn’t laugh. Or react in much of any other way. The fucker was still an enigma, his face a taut mask as he caught Brynna’s other wrist in his hold. He pulled her hands between their chests with a low growl. “Let’s be very clear. I want to do this with you as badly as Rhett does, littlecher…"

“But?” She supplied the implied word.

“But this time, I won’t be able to control myself as much as I did on the airplane. I won’t be able to hide so many of my…special preferences.” One side of his mouth kicked up—finally—when his revelation goose-bumped her flesh. “You’re a very bright girl, aren’t you? You’ve already figured out what they are. Maybe even thought about all the…creative ways…I could play with you.” His thumbs stroked her inner wrists. “Control you. Then pleasure you.”

Rhett palmed the shaft now pushing at his own pants. “And I won’t be able to hide what that does to me.”

Rebel nailed him with a hot glance. “I sure as hell hope not.”

Well, that made things official. Track pants really could be torture devices.

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AboutTheAuthor
Bestselling romance author Angel Payne has been reading and writing her entire life, though her love for romances began in junior high, when writing with friends on “swap stories” they’d trade between classes. Needless to say, those stories involved lots of angst, groping, drama, and French kissing.
She began getting a paycheck for her writing in her twenties, writing record reviews for a Beverly Hills-based dance music magazine. Some years, various entertainment industry gigs, and a number of years in the hospitality industry later, Angel returned to the thing she loves the most: creating character-based romantic fiction. Along the way, she also graduated with two degrees from Chapman University in Southern California, taking departmental honors for English, before writing five historical romances for Kensington and Bantam/Doubleday/Dell.
Angel found a true home in writing contemporary-based romances that feature high heat and high concepts, focusing on memorable alpha men and the women who tame them. She has numerous book series to her credit, including the Kinky Truth series, the Secrets of Stone series (with Victoria Blue), and the popular W.I.L.D. Boys of Special Forces series, as well as several stand-alone titles. TheCimarron series and the Once Upon a Sin series both launch in 2015.
Angel still lives in Southern California, where she is married to her soul mate and lives on a street that looks like Brigadoon, with their awesome daughter and Lady Claire, the dog with impeccable manners. When not writing, she enjoys reading, pop culture, alt rock, cute shoes, and hanging at the beach with family and friends.
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Jan 5th Release Blitz - The Good One


Expectations almost cost her everything.


Title:  The Good One
Author:  Amie Nichols
Genre:  Romantic Suspense
Cover Designer:  Sara Eirew
Release Date:  January 5, 2016
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River Scott is the daughter of a billionaire. She runs her father's company and does what she is told, including cleaning up after her out-of-control, socialite, wild-child baby sister. 

After a tragic night fifteen years ago, River feels she has no choice but to continue on the path of being the good one, keeping her sister in check and always pleasing her father. 

She's in a dead-end relationship, but all she wants is love, passion, and sweep-you-off-your-feet excitement. 

Because of her sister, she meets ex-male escort, Damian Matthews. Their attraction is by far like nothing either have experienced. He gives her everything she wants and so much more. 

Unfortunately, this is not the guy River's father would approve of. He approves of Ryan Lane, a wealthy, successful playboy who is ready to settle down and start a life in politics. She knows Ryan is the smart choice, but no one makes her feel like Damian does. 

When River starts dating Damian, a set of events are put into motion changing everything she thought she knew about her family. 

Can River get what she wants without losing everything and hurting the one person she has sworn to protect for the rest of her life? 

This is a standalone novel. Due to strong language and sexual situations, this book is meant for adults over 18.

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"The others are waiting for us." I grab some folders off my desk and walk past him. Before I can open the door, his arms have me pinned against it. His hands flat against the wood on both sides of my head. I stop, unable to move, as he presses his front to my back. I feel his rock-hard erection against the small of my back.

"Damian," I cry softly. I'm shocked, a little scared, and a whole lot turned on at the same time.

"Do you know that this has never happened to me from just looking at a woman? Not to mention, a fully clothed one." He breathes into my hair. "In fact, since I've met you, just the thought of you makes my dick hard. It aches for you. I ache for you."





My true passion is romance with some suspense and mystery. Giving my readers a reason to turn the page, with edge-of-your-seat thrills.

I love to write about sexy characters, alpha males and strong females. No matter what my story entails, know that you will leave with a warm fuzzy feeling and a HEA always.

Real life, well, let's face it, can kind of suck sometimes. Full of stress and so many depressing things happening in the world. Reading is a way to escape the pressures of real life. This is why I like to give my readers a promise of a happy ending.

In life I think the simple pleasures are the ones that make the difference: coffee, wine, and a good book, to name a few.

I also love all animals, a soft spot in my heart for elephants. And of course, my fur babies. Two miniature dachshunds that make me smile every day.
 Hot Tree Promotions

Promo - January 4 - 8 - Yellow Dog Blues Part 1 and 2 by Ren Monterrey

They both joined The Club and made an arrangement. She got the money to pay her overdue bills and he got access to her body, whenever and however he wanted it...



After being dumped by her boyfriend of six years, Lyric Johnson has no way to pay her bills. She's been trying to find a job for months, but no one seems interested in hiring a recent graduate of a creative writing program. When Lyric's neighbor tells her about THE CLUB, selling her body seems to be her only option.



Seven years ago recording artist, Maverick, had one of the biggest-selling singles of all time. When his second album failed to gain any traction and his personal life fell apart he disappeared into obscurity.



Now on the advice of his manager Maverick has joined THE CLUB and he's chosen Lyric for an arrangement.



YELLOW DOG BLUES is a SERIAL NOVEL, which unfolds in TWO PARTS (approximately 90 pages each).




Yellow Dog Blues Excerpt

One
My hand shakes as I open the front door to The Club. 

I have no idea what I’m doing here. Am I really contemplating selling my body for money?

I consider turning around and trying to figure something else out, but I’ve exhausted nearly every option I can imagine.

My next door neighbor, Cali, referred me to The Club when she found me locked out of my apartment with an eviction notice plastered across my door.

Chad, my boyfriend of six years, decided to join the Peace Corps without telling me. He finally admitted he was leaving when I found him packing for his flight to Africa. He left me with an apartment I had no way to pay for and several months of utility bills that were past due.

Despite all of my best efforts to secure gainful employment I haven’t been able to find a job. Not even a nibble. Not even after a nationwide search.

I guess earning a Master’s degree in Creative Writing was much less marketable than I ever imagined it would be.

Out of complete and utter desperation I dialed the number on the black business card Cali gave me. The gruff woman who answered the phone asked me only two questions: how old I was and if I was a blonde. Then she told me to meet her at three pm, quickly spat out the address and hung up on me.

So here I am at five minutes to three, my heart practically pounding out of my chest, trying to convince myself to go inside.

You have no job and nowhere to live, I remind myself. Not to mention a six figure student loan that’s about to come due in a few months. How I’ll ever be able to afford those monthly payments is something I can’t even contemplate at the moment.

I take in a deep breath and force myself to go inside.

As nondescript as the exterior of the building is, the interior is in sharp contrast. It’s rich looking with dark wood everywhere. The décor reminds me one of those men’s clubs from the movies. One of those places that only admits rich old men and exudes an atmosphere of excessive wealth and old money.

The Club probably caters to the same demographic.

There’s a young woman standing behind a large mahogany desk. I expect her to give me some type of greeting, but she just stares at me with her big doe eyes.

As I get closer I realize just how tall she is. She towers over all five foot four of me. It would surprise me if she wasn’t some kind of model. She’s rail thin and has that emaciated look about her.

“I have an appointment with Claudia.”

I’m surprised that she doesn’t check an appointment book, or even an electronic calendar, until I realize there is absolutely nothing to check. The desk is completely bare.

“Follow me,” she says.

She doesn’t give me any time to reply. She takes off down a long hallway at a pace so brisk I practically have to run to keep up with her.

When we get to the door at the end of the hallway she turns to me and says, “Go inside. Claudia is waiting for you.”

Before I have a chance to reply she takes off back down the hallway leaving me alone with the drumbeat of my pounding heart.

It takes several impossibly long moments for me to gather enough courage to open the door to Claudia’s office.

I bite my bottom lip to keep myself from gasping when I enter the large space. Everything in the room is completely white. Even Claudia herself is dressed in an all-white outfit. The decor is in sharp contrast to the heavy and dark reception area.

She looks me up and down before she instructs me to take a seat.

Claudia’s voice is husky, like someone who has smoked cigarettes for twenty years. She looks like an older version of her receptionist. She’s rail thin, and could have probably been a model a few decades ago.

I sit down in the only seat in the room that isn’t occupied. It’s on the other side of Claudia’s desk directly in front of her.

“I have a unique situation with a new client,” she tells me. “Normally we require clients to pay for at least six months in advance. This client insists on paying on a month-to-month basis. I like my girls to have a little more job security, at least six months per contract, but he’s willing to pay extra. You’re a cute blonde with a hot little body. I’ll have no problem making another more stable arrangement if things don’t work out with this client.”

She definitely gets right to the point.

I already feel dizzy with emotion. The only guy I’ve ever been with is my ex-boyfriend. We met our freshman year of college and were together for six years. Now Claudia is talking about the possibility of selling me to not one, but two different men. I’ve barely wrapped my head around the idea of being paid to be with one guy.

“He’s willing to fly you home immediately if things don’t work out.”

“Fly home?” I mutter.

“The client is located in Hawaii. You’ll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement before we can go any further with the negotiations because you will recognize his name.”

“Okay…” I gulp. My head is spinning. I’ve never been outside of the Midwest.

She pushes a piece of paper in front of me along with a pen. I quickly glance over the document and wonder if I should actually take the time to read it. When I look up at Claudia her scowl says don’t waste any time. So I grab the pen and scribble my name on the bottom of the non-disclosure agreement.

Once Claudia snatches the paper from my hand, she says, “My client is Maverick.”

I choke.

Did she just say Maverick? As in the musician who had the biggest selling song my junior year of high school?

His music topped the charts for months. He was so popular with teens that Hollywood producers cast him in a movie with America’s sweetheart, Katie Lawrence. The two had zero chemistry together and they blamed the box office bomb on Maverick. Then his second album came out and it failed to gain traction. His downward spiral continued when his movie star fiancée dumped him after he made national headlines with three porn stars in a hot tub. The final blow was his DUI arrest. He completely disappeared after that.

That’s who she wants me to have sex with? A washed-up pop star? When he rose to fame the media portrayed him as an A-1 asshole.

She must see the hesitation in my eyes.

“He’s willing to pay you eight thousand dollars for the month.”

That’s a lot of money and I don’t have any other options at the moment.

How bad could it possibly be? My neighbor, Cali, made it sound like I’d be his mistress. Mistresses in movies are treated well. Candlelight dinners in secluded restaurants. Weekends in lovely hotels. And plenty of diamond jewelry.

At least he’s not old. Well not that old. Thirty.
REN MONTERREY lives in a small town outside Phoenix, Arizona with her husband and their bloodhounds. She writes New Adult and Contemporary romance under a number of different pen names including Sierra Avalon, Savannah Young and Dakota Madison.



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