Friday, 30 October 2020

Release Boost - Shielded Wrongs by Adelaide Forrest




Title: Shielded Wrongs
Series: Bellandi Crime Syndicate #4
Author: Adelaide Forrest
Genre: Dark Mafia Romance
Release Date: October 26, 2020


BLURB

Sadie

Of all the Bellandi men, Lorenzo Vescovi should have been my safety. The one who would understand right from wrong.
But there’s a demon inside him, a cold-blooded killing machine begging to be freed from what remains of his humanity. 
I tempt him. I tease him, just by being me.
And when war erupts all around us, I have to hope I’m strong enough to withstand the flames of his possession.

Enzo

Of all the women in the world, Sadie is the one I should stay the farthest away from. The one my boss forbids me from touching.
But one look at her honey eyes, and I’m lost to the need to make her mine. 
She’s a mess of contradictions and full of jagged edges that threaten to pull me apart at the seams and unleash the beast lurking within. 
I can’t resist her rebellions. But when she’s threatened by my enemies, I’ll risk everything to keep her safe.
Even my humanity.

Shielded Wrongs is a full-length standalone novel with an HEA, but the series presents a better reading experience when following the suggested reading order.

This series contains dark elements, including an over-the-top antihero who does as he pleases. Please read at your own discretion.







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EXCERPT

With outstretched arms, he grabbed the top rope around the ring and tugged it down as he stared at me. A predatory grin played at the sharp curve of his lips, an overwhelming tease in and of itself. 

Those lips were made for sinning. 

Resisting the urge to move, I refused to let him see me squirm. He hadn't so much as touched me, but he seared my skin with his brand and imprinted himself on my soul with nothing but a look. "You want me to put my hands on you, Baby Girl?" he asked. "I can think of far more interesting ways to entertain you." 

I swallowed, shaking off the fog of lust threatening to make me jump his bones. 

Well, bone. 

"This is the only thing I'm interested in," I said. 

"Little Liar," he chuckled, shaking his head. The look on his face held zero trace of the annoyance most men would have felt if they thought I was playing hard to get. Instead, my resistance only seemed to spur Enzo on and make him more determined to watch me unravel. Something lurked behind his eyes, a demon simmering below the surface even though his face and words seemed otherwise amused. 

I had the distinct impression I was treading water in the deep end and too naïve to realize a current threatened to pull me under. 

"Don't be a douchebag," I laughed. "We both know sex would be a blast, but it isn’t going to happen. So put on your big boy pants, jump up here, and show me what you've got, Enzo." 

He complied, pulling himself into the ring with a masculine grace that should have been impossible for a man his size. Enzo moved like an assassin in the night, fluid and silent until he wanted his victim to feel that single moment of pure terror before it all ended. Bellandi men were psychotic, often enjoying the thrill and fear they instilled in their victims before they struck. 

But Enzo was his own brand of crazy. Determined to win, with zero interest in anything but getting the job done, he didn't do it for joy. 

He did it because it was his duty, and I had a feeling he was a killing machine beneath the careful facade he created to hide what lurked inside him.





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AUTHOR BIO


Adelaide fell in love with books at a young age and quickly discovered her love for writing soon after. Since then, she’s become a self-professed plot hoarder of over 300 book concepts.
After receiving her degree in Psychology, Adelaide went on to work in a therapeutic riding facility. When her daughter was born, Adelaide traded out her boots to be a stay-at-home mom. In 2019, she added author to those job duties after a lifetime of dreaming about it. 

She lives in New York with her husband, two children, and their dog and cat who all make up the center of her world.



Thursday, 29 October 2020

Cover Reveal - Hunter by Tracy Lorraine




Title: Hunter
Series: Rosewood High #5
Author: Tracy Lorraine
Genre: High School Bully Romance
Release Date: November 19, 2020


BLURB

I’m a nobody... until everybody realizes who I am and who I’m related to.

Then it’s like a giant target is painted on my back. They all think they can use me to climb the Rosewood High royalty ladder.

They obviously underestimate me. I won’t cower down or give in.

They can’t break me. But he can... without even trying.

Zayn Hunter.

He doesn’t want to use me... he’s already at the top— one of the Kings of the school.

He wants something else. Something he can’t have.

Me.

Yet he’s always there, living up to his name. Stalking me, like I’m his prey...

Maybe I am.

Even with the teasing and taunting, he’s not the real predator. He’s my protector.

His rescuing could be my undoing.

Because not everything is a game, and the boy I love to hate isn’t the only one watching.

He just might be the only one who sees me... the real me.

I just hope it’s enough.





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AUTHOR BIO


Tracy Lorraine is a M/F and M/M contemporary romance author. Tracy recently-ish turned thirty and lives in a cute Cotswold village in England with her husband, daughter and lovable but slightly crazy dog. Having always been a bookaholic with her head stuck in her Kindle Tracy decided to try her hand at a story idea she dreamt up and hasn’t looked back since.


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Excerpt Reveal, The Optional Aunt by Zoe Hill




Title: The Optional Aunt
Series: Coalition Collection #2
Author: Zoe Hill
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: November 12, 2020


BLURB

She's the older woman. He's the man who killed her husband. 

Rosalie Carmichael has spent most of her life doing as she's told. She is the perfect wife, a loving mother, and the aunt everyone calls on when they need a favor. 

Her life is peaceful until her happy family is torn apart and she finds herself at the mercy of the Coalition once again. 

Scared and alone for the first time since she was sixteen, Rosalie seeks comfort in the arms of her much younger bodyguard. Together they dream of a future where they’re free to love each other out in the open without fear of recriminations or bloody repercussions. 

And for six short months it seems as if escape might be possible. 

Then the Coalition requests an urgent meeting, and Rosalie is left with an impossible choice. 

Choose the bloodless—and loveless—option or follow her heart down the violent path to freedom? 

The Optional Aunt is a dark and erotic romantic suspense novel set in a world where deception is the norm and the truth can’t be trusted. It is the second book in The Coalition Collection, a series of interconnected standalones featuring the Ingram-Greaves, Averell, Zidane, and Du Croix crime families. 

*Full-length novel, complete with a HEA, and can be read as a standalone*







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TRAILER



EXCERPT

A moment before Sophia and Ollie enter the room, Zoran takes a seat in the armchair opposite. When Ollie sits next to me, I smile at him and ask in a sunny voice, “Would you like me to make some lunch for the two of us?” 
My question deliberately excludes my brother and Sophia. It’s clear from Sophia’s expression that she can tell something happened between me and Zoran. When she shoots him a glance, lifting one eyebrow in a silent query, I pretend that the way they can communicate without words doesn’t hurt. I had that kind of connection with Aaron once—not that Zoran would care since he seems to believe he’s the only person worthy of a love that lasts a lifetime. Even though he lives much more dangerously than Aaron ever did, it seems my brother is exempt from the travails of the rest of us. His hypocrisy is astounding. If Sophia was hurt, he would move heaven and earth to hunt down her attacker. My husband is dead, yet he won’t offer me the same option. 
“I could eat,” Ollie replies. He looks at Zoran while I quietly seethe at presumptuous brother. “Are you hungry?” 
“You should get going,” I suggest with a sweet smile at Sophia. Intentionally avoiding my brother’s gaze, I continue, “We should keep as much distance between us as possible—that way Roman can’t suspect your involvement in my disappearance.” 
“Ah.” Sophia looks between me and Zoran. “We might leave now.” 
Biting the inside of my cheek, I cheerfully fake my way through their farewells. As their vehicle disappears down the long, unsealed driveway that leads back to the freeway, the anger I feel toward Zoran for his refusal to give me the answer I want energizes me as a plan consolidates in my head. Everyone seems determined to either push me toward Ollie or warn me away from him. They all feel as if their opinion should be the guiding light in my life. No matter which way I turn, someone is going to be disappointed. 
None of them know what I’m going through. I was once a girl in love. Now, I’m just the ghost of the woman Aaron loved. Maybe it’s time for me to take what I need while I can? The deadline Roman has provided is fast approaching. 
He wants a blushing bride to replace his dead wife. If I’m going to be tied to that monster for the rest of my life, I should make the most of the time I have before he claims me. 
Once my Zoran’s Escalade is out of sight, I dart back inside the safe house. It’s a tiny, two-bedroom bungalow that’s tucked away in a small town on the coast between New York and New Haven. I’m pretty sure that Ollie has been here before—his eyes had lit up with memories when Zoran turned off the freeway. Good or bad, it was hard to tell. His expression had been shuttered by the time we entered the seaside cottage. 
Hopefully, I have the medicine he needs to forget. 
I rifle through my bags until I find the items I was looking for. Avoiding my reflection in the bathroom mirror so I don’t change my mind, I hurry to brush out my hair and adjust the red headband that holds my hair away from my face. The yellow sundress I pull on doesn’t quite fit the idea I have in mind, but it’ll have to do. Thankfully, it fits like a glove, accentuating my favorite features while camouflaging the signs of our ten-year age gap. 
After allowing myself one glimpse in the glass above the basin, I rush through the bungalow until I find Ollie. He’s in the kitchen, shirtless as he rummages through the fridge. Although I’ve spent months platonically sharing his bed, I’ve steadfastly refused to commit the details of his body to memory. Now, that I’ve decided to pursue the forbidden, I allow my gaze to comb his body. From the impossibly broad shoulders, down past the tattoo of a shield with the words “Samaritan’s Soldiers MC Est. 1999” inked over his entire back, to his tight ass and sculpted thighs—every inch of Ollie is mouthwatering. 
As he slowly turns around, I examine his chest. There is a posey of poppies inked down his ribs. A Celtic knot filled with shamrocks covers one side of his stomach. But it’s the tattoo of his chest, a Claddagh containing a Mystique cross, that captures my attention. Aaron had the same tattoo in exactly the same spot. 
Seeing it verifies that I’m making the right choice. 
If I can’t have my husband back, then I’ll settle for the next best thing. With three months of freedom left, I am determined to make the most of every second. By the time Roman claims me as his, there won’t be an inch of my body that remains untouched by the hands of the man he told me to stay away from. 
“Holy fuck, Snow,” Ollie drawls. He balances a loaf of bread, ham hock, and sliced cheese in his arms. “You look… you look—what are you doing?” 
Swaying my hips, I hold my shoulders back to thrust my half-exposed chest forward for his perusal. When I reach him, I remove the sandwich fixings from his hands, an item at a time, placing them on the bench, before I step close enough to press my breasts against his stomach. His harsh intake of breath makes my desire sing. 
He wants me. 
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down on it as I tilt my head to the side and purr, “I’ve been told you like to tie women up then fuck them until they scream for mercy.” The color drains from Ollie’s face. His eyes widen, then narrow to slits when I slide my hand down to his bulge. Cupping his cock over his shorts, I squeeze gently. “I want you to take me like that. Now.” 
Ollie doesn’t answer me with words. He doesn’t need to. Seizing hold of my throat with the speed of a striking snake, he spins me around and bends me facedown over the dining table. Once he’s kicked my feet apart, he settles between my legs and presses his erection against my ass. Only the material of his shorts and the lace of my panties separates our skin. I push against him, hissing when he flips up my skirt and spanks my ass with one harsh blow. 
He curls his body over mine and lowers his chin to my shoulder. After sinking his teeth into my lobe until I whimper, Ollie snarls in my ear, “You have no idea what you’re asking for, but you’re about to find out. Hold on, Snow… it’s about to get rough.”






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AUTHOR BIO


Zoe Hill is an Australian writer. Having found her niche spinning tales about love and villains, Zoe loves nothing better than typing all the words and consuming exorbitant amounts of coffee and Skittles while her teens are at school.

A country girl at heart, she is a rabid reader, a metal head, and UFC fanatic. When not writing, Zoe can be found chatting about plot bunnies with her menagerie of animals and musing out loud about how well she’s moonlighting as a competent wife and mother.

Zoe is active online and loves nothing better than chatting about books and memes. Feel free to friend her on Goodreads, check out her website zoehillwrites.com, or search Zoe Hill Writes to find her social media accounts.


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Release Blitz - Opium Skies by C.M. Radcliff




Title: Opium Skies
Series: In Vein #1
Author: C.M. Radcliff
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance
Release Date: October 29, 2020


BLURB

Life is full of variables.
We crave control, but in reality, we have very little.

I left home with a plan: get the full college experience and pass my classes.
But that all changed when I met him.
Ander was the last thing I needed.
He was never part of my plan.
He was the one variable in my life that I could never control.

And we were destined for destruction







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EXCERPT

My eyes fly open and I glance at the door, meeting his stormy blue eyes. 
“What the fuck are you doing, Hadley?” Ander barks as his entire body consumes the doorway. Everyone in the room freezes, glancing between the two of us. 
Narrowing my eyes, I hold his gaze, challenging him as I slide the rolled-up bill across the surface of the dresser, deeply inhaling the bright white powder. My eyes never leave Ander’s as I drop the bill onto the dresser and stand upright, sniffing harder. Ander steps into the room, his entire presence consumes every inch of the space. The two guys in the room instinctively step back, knowing better than to get in his way right now. 
Ander’s eyes are honed in on mine and they burn with the deepest shades of blue. A complete contradiction to the storm that brews within his expression. He stops in front of me, reaching out and grabs my chin. Tilting my head to look back at him, he leans in, his lips just barely touching mine. 
“You wanna play like that, little girl?” He breathes against my lips as a sinister smile pulls on the corners of his lips. “Game on.” 
Quickly releasing me, Ander nudges me to the side and plucks the rolled-up bill from the wood surface. Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch him, slightly amused as he leans over the dresser. Within a matter of seconds, he inhales the remaining lines left and stands back to look at me. 
His pupils are already constricted, but I watch as they transform into just small dots, with his blue irises consuming them. Ander looks down at me with a sly grin playing on his lips, waiting for me to make the next move. 
Abruptly grabbing me by the throat, he pulls me flush against him. My breath catches in my throat. His touch burns against my skin and the blazing fire settles throughout my body, mixing with the euphoria from the Oxy and everything else in my system. 
Heat spreads from my stomach and a warmth creeps between my legs as he leans closer, his warm breath skating across my face. Just as his lips are about to capture mine, he ducks his head to the side, pressing his lips against my ear. 
“Ball’s in your court, babe,” he breathes, his words only meant for me to hear and lightly squeezes my throat. “Your move.”






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Releasing January 14

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AUTHOR BIO

C.M. Radcliff lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and two demon children. Known as the Psycho Queen, she speaks fluent sarcasm, dark humor, and has the mouth of a sailor. If she isn't reading or writing, she's probably on an adventure with her little family.



Release Blitz - Blood & Wine by Margot Scott




Title: Blood and Wine
Author: Margot Scott
Genre: Dark Vampire Romance
Release Date: October 29, 2020


BLURB

A slow-burning descent into darkness and desire... 

Betrayed. Imprisoned. Alone. 

For decades I have suffered as a reluctant blood donor. Caged like an animal and drained of my strength to enrich the Radcliffs and their winery. I’d forsaken all hope of escape—until the winemaker’s daughter returns to the family’s estate. 

A drop of my immortal blood is all it takes to activate her psychic talents. Now we’re connected, and all that remains is convincing her to seek me in the darkness. 

Bribe. Seduce. Deceive. 

To claim she’s too young is an understatement. But a starving man doesn’t have the luxury of waiting for fruit to ripen. I’ve awakened her gifts, and now it’s her turn to replenish me. 

I will have my fill of the winemaker’s daughter. Then I will take revenge on her family. 


Author's note: Please be aware that this book contains scenes of violence, gore, and rough sexual contact, as well as an age-gap pairing spanning literal centuries. If you find drastically inappropriate older man/younger woman romances squicky, do yourself a favor and skip this book.







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EXCERPT

I inhale the perfume of lilacs, and watch the horses grazing among the vines. Then I remind myself that it’s October, and there aren’t any horses on the grounds anymore. 
That’s how I know I’m still dreaming. 
I’ve been a lucid dreamer since I was little, capable of controlling my consciousness at whim while asleep. It’s the one Greyson-like talent I’ve been blessed with, and it’s not even that interesting. 
A burst of laughter calls my attention to a couple drinking champagne on the patio. I approach them. They ask if I’m wearing that to the party, and it’s not until I notice how they’re dressed—her in a silk blue wrap dress with ruffles, and him in a fedora and striped jacket—and the way their silhouettes dissolve slightly into the air around them, that I realize they aren’t just stand-ins manufactured by my dream engine. 
They’re ghosts. My mom tried describing them to me, but it’s one thing to hear about something and another to actually see it with your own eyes. 
Ghosts don’t look the way you might expect, all white-sheeted and billowy. Neither do they resemble rotting corpses. They look like shimmery versions of regular people. A little fuzzy around the edges, maybe, but otherwise normal. 
The clamor of horn-heavy music playing elsewhere on the estate coaxes me to step barefooted into the grass. I make my way toward the sound. Sure enough, there’s a party in full swing in the grand foyer. I peek through the windows at the crowd of ghosts having a grand old time, drinking, laughing, and dancing. 
I stay and watch for a while and listen to the band play, until a man in a waistcoat comes up behind me and asks if I have an invitation. I run into the field, glancing over my shoulder to make sure I’m not being chased. 
A woman in a white dress watches me from a second-story window. I’m not a hundred percent certain, but I’m pretty sure she’s watching me from the room I’m staying in. She’s too far away to note the details of her face, but her hair is long, dark, and straight, like mine. I blink and she’s gone, and her absence unsettles me and sends me galloping further into the grapevines. 
The sky hasn’t changed since I awoke into the dreamscape, giving the vineyard a sense of timelessness. Now that I’m away from the house, I make my way down the rows of vines slowly, skimming my fingers over the leaves. 
This place isn’t so bad without Edward and his awful relatives making me feel unwelcome. It would’ve been even nicer to have come here with my mother; I could’ve listened to her tell her own stories. 
A crow soars overhead and then drops into a cluster of trees. That’s when I spot the man standing with his back to me among the vines. 
“Hello,” I call out, moving a little closer. He turns his blond head slowly, like he’s not sure if he heard me. I call out again, “Hello, sir?” 
When our gazes meet, I stop advancing. His eyes are so blue they’re almost turquoise. I’m already lost in them, and I just got here. He studies me curiously, like he’s never seen a girl in a Blind Melon tee shirt before. 
“Did you say something to me?” he asks. 
“I said hello.” 
The man looks around, like he’s making sure I’m not actually talking to someone behind him. He’s a pretty big guy, fit and brawny. Maybe he’s the ghost of a laborer, I think, though his clean shirt and fair skin would suggest he’s not one for toiling in the sun. I’d guess him to be somewhere in his mid-thirties. I wonder how long it’s been since he passed on, then remind myself he isn’t real. This place looks like the vineyard, but it’s not the vineyard. There’s no reason my mind couldn’t dream up ghosts just as easily as it cooks up impatient servers. 
“How long have you lived here?” I ask. Mom also told me that ghosts sometimes forget they’re dead, and when they do, it’s best not to remind them. Nine times out of ten, whenever there’s an aggressive haunting, it’s because a ghost is confused, or hasn’t yet come to terms with their situation. This man appears lucid enough, and his silhouette is surprisingly crisp, but I figure it’s better to play it safe. 
His lip curls slightly. “I’ve been here much longer than I’d like to be.” 
“Oh. That sucks.” I’m not sure how else to respond. 
Two rows of vines separate us, but even that distance and a coating of golden scruff aren’t enough to mask the fact that he’s handsome. His face is angular without being pointed, his lips full, yet defined. The longer I look at him, the faster my pulse starts to race. Heat floods my face as I force myself to stop gawking at him like some wannabe groupie. 
“I’m just visiting my dad,” I say, hoping he won’t notice the tremor in my voice. The man says nothing. When I allow myself to glance his way again, he’s no longer standing in the same spot. 
He’s right beside me. 
I stagger back a few steps. 
“How did you do that?” A dumb question, considering ghosts don’t have to follow the laws of physics in the real world, let alone the nonexistent rules in my dreams. 
I hold my breath as the man reaches out to touch my cheek. Somehow his eyes are even bluer this close up. 
“How is this possible?” He strokes the sides of my face. 
“Anything’s possible in a dream,” I say. He shakes his head in disbelief, like I’m the ghost in his dreams. 
“This is why he wants you,” he says, and I have no idea what that means. 
“Who wants me?” 
His gaze lifts over my shoulder, in the direction of the house. 
“It’s time to wake up, Mariah.” 
“Why?” And how does he know my name? 
“You have a visitor.” He grasps my shoulders firmly enough to pinch and shakes me. 
I’m jolted awake, for real this time. 
It takes me a second to recall where I am—in bed, in the guestroom, at Red Cliff—and half a second more to realize that I’m not alone.






AUTHOR BIO


Margot Scott likes long nails and short, sexy reads, rainbow sprinkles on vanilla ice cream, and rainy days spent in bed with her furbabies. When she’s not writing forbidden-love stories about bearded older men, you can find her browsing Pinterest for pictures of pink things.


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