Monday, February 10, 2014

COVER REVEAL STUCK IN BETWEEN by Blakely Bennett

Title: Stuck In Between

Author: Blakely Bennett

Genre: Erotic Romance

Release Date: March 24, 2014

Cover Designer: Yocla Designs

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20560304-stuck-in-between


Synopsis

Jacqs is a twenty-eight year old woman caught up in an on again, off again relationship with Bond, who is her best friend and the one who causes her the most heartache. She succumbs, yet again, to his powerful charisma, but vows not make it into more than it is, a great night of sex.

Bond, too sexy for his own good, wants Jacqs for himself as he “dates” his way through the female population of South Florida. He selfishly doesn’t see the conflict of interest.

Red, Bond’s best friend, has watched Bond take Jacqs for granted for way too long and soon stakes his own claim on her.

Will Red and Jacqs budding relationship pull apart their tight-knit group of friends and will Jacqs survive being Stuck In Between.

Excerpt

I shook out my hair, put my shoulders back and stood as straight as possible. I wouldn’t let Red intimidate me. When I strutted over to him, his expression left me confused. He’d always been so cold, like a granite statue and yet, I couldn’t read the new side to him.
“Why did you want me to come and what did you mean? Wait … no … shit, what I really wanted to say was that I appreciate you coming to get me.”
“Let’s go have a drink.”
“A drink?”
“Yes, you could use one.”
“Would you stop doing that?” I said, squinting up at him through the outside house light that cascaded around him.
“Doing what? I just offered you a drink,” he said, resting his back against his vehicle and folding his arms in front of him.
“No, you said I needed one. You’re so bossy.”
He laughed and said, “You bring it out in me. I’ll do my best to temper the urge.”
“You have urges?”
“You don’t want to know,” he said, glaring down at me.
“Oh … I,” I stuttered, my nipples flaring at his intent. I crossed my arms over my chest as well.
Grabbing my hand, he pulled me along with him into the house and through the main sitting area. Dreamworld played through the sound system. Cat gave me a questioning look as Red led me into the kitchen. I shrugged my shoulders back to her. He opened the refrigerator, fingered a Mike’s Lemonade and a bottle of Dos Equis, popped the caps and swooped up my hand again in his large palm, leading me out to the back.
I loved all the palms and the large stone deck around the Jacuzzi and pool. His two-story home sat on the intracoastal waterway, allowing him to keep his boat right behind the house.
Two guys I didn’t recognize sat at the wrought iron table by the pool, smoking cigarettes.
“Hey Ray, Charlie, glad you could make it,” Red said, pausing but not releasing my hand.
“Thanks for the invite. She’s a tiny one,” one of the guys said, tilting his head in my direction.
“She makes up for it with a big mouth,” Red said with a smug expression.
I tried to pull my hand out of his grip, but he held on so tight I had to use my free hand to punch him in the shoulder. I would have preferred to punch his jaw but I figured it would hurt me more than him to hit the sharp edge of his face.
His friends chuckled, leaving me even more incensed.
“And he makes up for his Neanderthal size with his small personality or at least that’s what he calls it,” I said, purposefully looking at his pants.
That made his friends fall out in hysterical laughter and I felt rather proud of myself.
“Come on, you,” he said, dragging me back inside and up the stairs to his bedroom.
I had never been in there before. So neat and organized, it could have been a room in an upscale hotel except for the antique furniture on either side of the fireplace and the art on the walls. A chair sat near the entrance to the room, a pair of slacks over the back of it.
“What the hell is going on with you Red?” I said as I finally managed to pull my hand away from his. “You’ve never given me much notice over the years. How long has it been?”
“Five years.”
“I’ve been putting up with your crap for five years? Jesus.” I took the lemonade from his hand and took several swallows.
“Take it easy, Jacqs,” he said, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it.
“Stop telling me what to do, would you?”
“I can’t help myself,” he said with a slight smile.
“Try.” I sat on the edge of the bed, putting plenty of distance between us.
“I didn’t much care for your joke.”
“Your friends rather liked it and you started it. Don’t fuck with me and I won’t fuck with you back.”
“Do you have to talk like that? It’s very unattractive.”
“What the fuck … shit …um heck do you want from me?” I drank more to boost my courage.
“I’m warning you, Jacqs.”
“Warning me? From what? What will you do?”
“Don’t push me.”
“I push your buttons without even trying.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“Are you going to answer me?” I asked. “Because, if not, I’ll just head home.” I stood, finished off my drink and took a step toward the door that he blocked with his massive frame.
He crossed the distance between us, swiped the drink out of my hand, placing both bottles on the corner of his dresser. Before I had a chance to fight or protest he lifted me under my arms, off my feet, and placed my back against the wall. He groaned as if it pained him and then he descended on my mouth with his.
I tried to push him off me, but he remained hard as steel and I finally gave over to the incredible sensations he stirred within me. I took his large face in my little hands and that caused him to groan in pleasure, deepening the kiss. As I wrapped my legs around his bulky frame, he held me closer and carried me over to the antique chair by the door. He sat down with me on his lap, and we just stared at each other for a moment.
Afraid of breaking the spell that I knew would end once reality set in, I sat, waiting. He ran his hands up my neck, followed by his mouth, kissing and nibbling. Chills fluttered down my spine and I moaned, “Oh, Red.” Wetness pooled in my panties and I wanted him to take me. I wanted to know what his cock looked like, tasted like. I didn’t care if we ever spoke again afterwards, or if my motivations stemmed from getting back at Bond. Red had sparked an intense need that required fulfillment and I wanted him to take me.
Running my hands through his short cropped red hair, I pulled his mouth back to mine and he took control. Clutching my wrists, he held them with one hand behind my back, and bit his way down my chest. He unbuttoned the rest of my blouse, pushing the silk down off my shoulders, exposing my breast and hard nipples to the air.
“No bra? You’re naughtier than I imagined.”
“You’ve thought about me?”
“Incessantly. Keep your arms behind you,” he said as ran his hands under my breasts and lowered his mouth. “I had no idea.”
“What?”
“For such a tiny woman, you have rather large nipples.”
I scrunched my face, not sure if he liked what he saw.
“No need for the funny face, I love them.” He sucked on my right nipple and I closed my eyes in pleasure. His big hands kneaded my flesh and pulled on my left nipple.
“Ohhhh,” I called out, arching into his caresses.
“Shhhh,” he said, “I think I heard something.”
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded.
“Stay the night.”
“That’ll go over well with Bond, for sure.”
“Did you have to mention him?”
The bubble had burst and in my embarrassment, I scurried off his lap and buttoned up my shirt. I glanced in the mirror on the dresser and smoothed out my hair.
He pushed into me from behind, grasping my breast over my shirt. He nipped my earlobe and said, “I’m not done with you, but I need to check on the party below.” He clutched the nape of my neck, turning my head toward him and kissing me one last time. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

Author Bio

Blakely Bennett grew up in Southeast Florida and has been residing in the great Northwest for over eight years. She graduated from Nova Southeastern University with a degree in psychology, which accounts for her particular interest in crafting the personalities, struggles, and motivations of her characters. She is an avid reader of many genres of fiction, but especially erotica and romance. Writing has always been her bliss. She is attracted to stories of self-struggle and ultimate recovery.

Blakely is married to a wonderful, loving and supportive husband, also a writer, who helps to keep her grounded. She is a mother, a communitarian, a lover of music (always on while she is writing—thank you, Pandora), and a good friend. An advocate of love and female empowerment, she is a facilitator for a women’s group. She loves to walk and hike for exercise and finds that, since moving to Seattle, WA, she is now one of those “crazy” people who walk in the rain.

Stuck In Between (erotic romance) is her 5th novel. She is also the author of the dark erotic suspense, My Body Trilogy (My Body-His, My Body-His (Marcello) & My Body-Mine) and co-authored the contemporary romance, The Demarcation of Jack with her husband, Dana Bennett.

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Cover Reveal Can’t Go Home (Oasis Waterfall, #1) & Can’t Go Without (Oasis Waterfall, #2) by Angelisa Stone

Book Title: Can't Go Without (Oasis Waterfall, #2)

Author: Angelisa Stone

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: March 1, 2014




“What’s the one thing you can’t go without?”

Tristan O'Donnell has money, women, and all the luxuries that cold hard cash can buy. Tristan's been sucking sunshine right from the monogrammed silver spoon his life was served up on since the day he was born. And quite frankly, he wouldn't want it any other way. He's his mother's pride and joy, his father's right-hand-man, and the envy of every guy around. All Tristan has to do is flash his million dollar smile, give his trademark wink, and he gets what he wants, when he wants, anytime he wants.

Leah Franchetti grinds her fingers to the bone; sculpting, painting, recreating treasures from trash—the very sentiment that defines her life. Her inventive, vindictive, lucrative, and seemingly unforgivable plan allowed her to shortcut her way into the life she always imagined, owning an art gallery, surrounding herself in the comfort of her passion and dreams.

When circumstances force Leah and Tristan to come face-to-face with the past and with Leah’s devious manipulation, truths come flooding forth, destroying those in the present and possibly jeopardizing both of their highly anticipated futures.

Can Tristan overcome Leah’s slander and deception—despite how dangerously close he comes to losing the one thing he can’t go without—money? Will Leah be forced to come clean, knowing she’ll have to live her life with the one thing she can’t go without—her dignity?

Excerpt 

Rushing out of Chet O’Donnell’s office, angrily and haughtily, I face-plant straight into a strong, hard chest, covered in a wool, cable-knit sweater, smelling of expensive cologne.  People always say that the sense of smell is the most powerful sense, triggering memories and feelings clearer than any of the other four senses combined.  Just one smell, one inhalation of that warm, sexy designer cologne and my insides burn, ignite with intense desire and longing.  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  No. No. No.

“I’m…I’m…I’m…” I stammer, backing up, dropping my head, and looking straight at the ground in humiliation.

“I’m…I gotta go,” I mumble, sidestepping out of his way, and heading straight for the elevator.  I push the button repeatedly, knowing damn well my actions won’t speed up the elevator’s arrival.

Tristan runs to catch me, just as I eye the stairwell and bolt for the door.  “Leah! Wait!” he yells; the “wait” is muffled by the sound of the door slamming behind me.  I run down only one flight of steps and escape onto the twentieth floor, knowing that Tristan O’Donnell would chase me the entire way down the stairs—if seeing and talking to me were his goals.  Tristan O’Donnell always gets what he wants.  Always.

Hoping that Tristan doesn’t check the video monitors, I walk down the hallway to the other set of stairs and down to the first floor, exiting O’Donnell Industries.  Once I hit the street, the winter sun reflecting off the snow burns my eyes.  I squint at the pain of the brightness, knowing the sting of my tears has nothing to do with the shining, searing light. 


Book Title: Can't Go Home (Oasis Waterfall, #1)

Author: Angelisa Stone

Genre: Contemporary Romance


Everyone has secrets; secrets meant to be kept—hidden away where nobody can discover the truth. Adrian O’Donnell (aka: Dre Donley) is no exception. Dre spins tales and half-truths like it’s his job, keeping the reality of his past buried deep within each lie he fabricates. On the other hand, Kathryn Howell is the exception to the rule. She’s a straight-shooter, a tell-it-like-it-is, no filter kind of girl.

Kathryn’s honesty and straightforwardness is the ultimate turn on for a guy like Dre. He’s never met someone so sincere, so full of truth and innocence. Their chemistry is unavoidable, their connection, magnetic. When Dre sets out to make Kathryn fall for him, he doesn’t realize the grave mistake he’s making. Kathryn’s strength and convictions do not falter, even for an irresistible man like Dre. When his past resurfaces, and the lies come tumbling forth, Kathryn must decide if his deceit and betrayal can be forgiven or if the damage is irreparable. Will the truth ultimately destroy the relationship that neither one of them could deny or even attempt to resist?


This novel is for mature readers only, due to language and sexual content.

Meet the Author
Who is Angelisa Stone?


Angelisa Stone is a typical Midwestern wife and mom, frazzled by parenting and housework, and overwhelmed with sports schedules, doctor appointments, and three-dimensional creative projects due “tomorrow morning.” Stone dreams of white sandy beaches, clear-blue waters, and Midori coladas in hand, but realizes that her loving husband and four not-so-perfect children are her real dreams-come-true. Writing and reading are her passions, and she hopes (and prays with her fingers tightly crossed) that readers will find enjoyment and escape through her words and characters. Stone's first novel, Can't Go Home, is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble now.

Email Angelisa for fun chatter and banter, giggles and chuckles: angelisaauthor@gmail.com

Social Links:







Sunday, February 9, 2014

RELEASE DAY LAUNCH for THE DIVIDING LINE by Victoria H


Synopsis

A new love and a new life.

Drake left Chicago with little more than the clothes on his back to be with his girlfriend Lacey. Though he has no regrets, he sometimes wonders if his time spent in Paris has put his life on hold. He’s overworked and underpaid at his dead-end job, and his employer sees him as expendable. His bright light at the end of the day is Lacey, but he finds himself slowly falling into the shadow of her newly-acquired fame. The city of love has found their new starlet in Lacey, but Drake is simply the man by her side.

With all good things there comes a price.

Lacey has been living the dream. She arrived in Paris with nothing but heartache and loss. Now, she’s the rising star of the city’s newest opera and dating the man of her dreams. When her performance contract is extended, she must decide if her new life of glitz and glam is what’s best for a future with the man she loves—or if it’s just what’s best for her.

Paris brought Drake and Lacey together. But when their hopes for the future begin taking them in different directions, they must a find common ground or risk a line dividing them that may prove to be insurmountable.

The Dividing Line is the sequel to the new adult multicultural romance The Space Between.

Excerpt

I looked up when she cleared her throat, and in that moment, those few precious seconds of seeing her pushed all other thoughts away. She was absolutely stunning—as she always was. She wore her hair loose tonight, just the way I liked it, as it allowed her soft fragrance to constantly move through the air and captivate me. A pearl white dress formed to her body, highlighting her shapely curves. It exposed just enough of her cleavage to get me going without having to tell her to change so as not to attract unwanted attention. But that probably couldn’t be helped tonight due to the length of her dress. That smooth, golden skin of hers was all I saw. Her toned thighs practically called me to come over and wrap them around me. I had to fight the vision of them hugging my body, the pink pumps she wore falling off as I pressed her back up against the wall and tasted her neck.
            She walked over to me slowly, the charm bracelet I gave her glistening in the room’s lighting as she made her way over wearing a coy smile. When she stopped in front of me, I placed a hand to her back, my other sneaking to her ample bottom.
            I pressed her against me. Leaning in, I sought her lips. Her breath caught when I teased her, passing over her mouth and settling my lips on her neck instead.
            “I thought it was your birthday. Not mine,” I said, her neck so sweet against my tongue as I gave her gentle kisses.
            She put her hand on my shoulder, squeezing as I kissed her. “I have a feeling we’ll both be happy before the night is over.”



PURCHASING LINKS


Author Bio
Victoria H. Smith has a Bachelor’s Degree in Political Science. She puts it to good use writing romance all day. She resides in the Midwest with her Macbook on her lap and a cornfield to her right. She often draws inspiration for her stories from her own life experiences, and the twenty-something characters she writes give her an earful about it.


In her free time, she enjoys extreme couponing, blogging, reading, and sending off a few tweets on Twitter when she can. She writes new adult fiction romance in the sub-genres of science fiction, urban fantasy, and contemporary, but really, anywhere her pen takes her she goes. She’s also co-founder of NA Alley, a group fiction blog dedicated toward the spread of the ‘new adult’ fiction category.

Stay connected with Victoria:




Book Blitz The Ringmaster’s Daughter by Grace Elliot


Book Title: The Ringmaster's Daughter - #1 The Foxhall Series

Author: Grace Elliot

Genre: Historical Romance

Release Date: February 1, 2014




1770’s London
The ringmaster’s daughter, Henrietta Hart, was born and raised around the stables of Foxhall Gardens. Now her father is gravely ill, and their livelihood in danger. The Harts' only hope is to convince Foxhall’s new manager, Mr Wolfson, to let Hetty wield the ringmaster’s whip. Hetty finds herself drawn to the arrogant Wolfson but, despite their mutual attraction, he gives her an ultimatum: entertain as never before – or leave Foxhall.

When the winsome Hetty defies society and performs in breeches, Wolfson’s stony heart is in danger. Loath as he is to admit it, Hetty has a way with horses…and men. Her audacity and determination awaken emotions long since suppressed.

But Hetty’s success in the ring threatens her future when she attracts the eye of the lascivious Lord Fordyce. The duke is determined, by fair means or foul, to possess Hetty as his mistress – and, as Wolfson’s feelings for Henrietta grow, disaster looms.



Chapter 1

So far that morning, Tobias Wolfson, the new manager of Foxhall Pleasure Gardens, had watched an overweight acrobat, an arthritic contortionist and a ballad singer who was so out of tune that she made his teeth ache. Small wonder the gardens were losing money, he reflected, if these were Foxhall’s best entertainments. And given that the next act was late, his mood showed no sign of improving as he stared across the deserted stable yard. “Perchance Mr Hart does not value his job?” Wolfson said. At his side, a florid man in a periwig, smiled nervously. “He should be here, I told him myself.” “Where is he, Mr Uglow? Answer me that!” Mr Uglow’s shoulders drooped. “Happen Mr Hart has been detained.” “Hart’s Performing Horses,” Wolfson murmured, making a mental note to strike the act from the list of those retained. “Perhaps he’s inside.” Uglow’s plump hand gestured towards the large stone barn. Wolfson studied the two-story building. Evidently the stables and a tack room were on the ground floor, while the upper housed both a hayloft and some cramped accommodation. He nodded toward the loft. “Mr Hart and his daughter live up there. Anyone else?” “No. There was a groom, but he was let go.” “A quick look and if Hart’s not there, it’s his loss.” With a grunt, Wolfson marched toward the tack room but, as he passed through the open door, he felt a disturbance in the air and — before he could shout a warning — a young woman cannoned into the wall of his chest. She hit with such force, he heard the breath knocked from her lungs as she rebounded and tumbled backwards. By sheer reflex, Wolfson grabbed her upper arms to steady her. Instead of seeming grateful for his help, the girl glared back, her dark eyes fizzing angry as a wasp’s nest poked with a stick. Raising a brow, he studied this whirlwind. She had an oval-shaped face, her complexion glowed with health and hair, the color of ripe chestnuts, fell in a thick plait down to her bottom. She was dressed in working clothes, an apron covering a plain woolen skirt, a chemise and a shawl. She was, he realized, a young woman rather than a girl – with a curvaceous figure to match. His interest peeked. “Sir, release me!” She jerked a shoulder. With a start, Wolfson found he still gripped her surprisingly muscular upper arms. “Apologies, madam.” He let go and couldn’t help inspecting his hands, puzzled by the tingle of static on his palms. Bemused, he looked up to find her staring back, her mouth softly parted in question. Feeling an unwanted tug of attraction, Wolfson scowled. Composing herself, the woman stood hands on hips, her brow furrowed in challenge. “What are you doing in my yard?” Bold as a lioness, she held her head high, and something jumped inside Wolfson as he returned her stare. Even standing still, she exuded energy — and the faint smell of lavender and horses. Perhaps it was the vivacity behind those dark eyes — so dark as to be almost black — or that determined expression, but her spirit excited Wolfson and his brow rose further. “Your yard?” he said, faintly amused. Mr Uglow coughed politely. “Ah, this is Mr Hart’s daughter, Henrietta — she may know what has detained her father.” For the first time, the young woman faltered. “You want Pa?” “Indeed, I would be most grateful,” Wolfson continued, “unless he has more important matters to attend to than keeping his place.” Miss Hart eyed him suspiciously. “And you are?” With an ironic smile, Wolfson tipped his tricorn hat. “Mr Wolfson, new manager of the Foxhall Pleasure Gardens.” Miss Hart hesitated, her gaze flicked to the stout man by his side. “The gossip is true — Mr Uglow isn’t running things anymore?” Wolfson proceeded smoothly, “Mr Uglow continues as a valuable asset to the gardens, but I am here to ease his workload and provide fresh insight during the renovations.” “Mr Wolfson and I will be working together.” Uglow’s tight lips suggested he disliked the arrangement. “Oh, I see,” Her dark eyes widened and deepened to black. “And you wanted Pa because…?” “To decide the act’s future.” “Oh.” Was his imagination or had Miss Hart just trembled? Beside him, Mr Uglow shuffled his feet. With effort, Wolfson marshalled his thoughts back to the task in hand. “Miss Hart, will your father be honoring us with his presence?” “Pa’s out. Being fitted for a new costume. Not expected back afore late afternoon.” She held his gaze, but Wolfson’s skin prickled as it did when he was being lied to. “Is that right?”  Miss Hart licked her lips. “I just said so.” Wolfson arched a brow at her impertinence but let the disagreement go, for he would get to the bottom of matters in his own time. He folded his arms across his chest, tapping a manicured finger against the opposite sleeve. “I understand your father has performed at Foxhall for many years.” “Yes, sir. He started when I was a babe in arms. There was a time when Hart’s Performing Horses were the star attraction,” she added hastily. “Of course the act is still very popular.” Wolfson inclined his head toward Mr Uglow. “What are the gate receipts like?” The ruddy-faced man waved his hands in exasperation. “I’m far too busy running the gardens to keep track of every little detail.” Wolfson hid his irritation behind a genial smile. “But you can find out?” “I suppose so. There will be ledgers somewhere.” “Have them sent to my office as a matter of priority. And Miss Hart,” He faced those devastating dark eyes – that he decided were a deep hazel, bordering on brown. “Please explain why last night’s performance was cancelled.” Her skin, lightly tanned from time spent outdoors, paled slightly. “The lead horse, Stardust, he went lame.” There it was again, the skin prickling sensation. For some reason Miss Hart was lying, but he nodded as if sympathetic. “I trust he will be fit for tonight.” “Oh yes, sir.” She smiled, but her lip quivered. Clearly something was troubling her. “Even so, I would like to speak with Mr Hart urgently.” “I can pass on a message.” “Very well. Tell your father that tonight I will be in the audience deciding whether or not to re-commission the act. Nothing I have seen or heard to date inspires confidence. I suggest he gives the performance of his life.” For the first time, Miss Hart seemed dumb-founded. “Of course, Mr Wolfson, I will tell him.” “Good,” he sighed. “Next on my list are the giant tortoise and his handler. Lead on, Mr Uglow, lead on.” Aware of Miss Hart’s eyes burning into his back, he left the stable yard with the niggling impression that Miss Hart was as an uncut diamond amongst coals.


Grace Elliot leads a double life as a veterinarian by day and author of historical romance by night. She lives near London and is housekeeping staff for five cats, two teenage sons, one husband and a bearded dragon.





Fall in Love with History: http://graceelliot-author.blogspot.com