Blog Tour – Forever Right Now by Emma Scott

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Title: Forever Right Now
Author: Emma Scott
Release Date: Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Tagline: “Ours isn’t a romance. It’s a love story.

Forever Right Now Blurb:

***STANDALONE new adult romance from the author of The Butterfly Project and the Full Tilt Duet***

Darlene Montgomery has been to hell and back…more than once. After a stint in jail for drug possession, she is finally clean and ready to start over. Yet another failed relationship is just the motivation she needs to move from New York to San Francisco with the hopes of resurrecting her dance career and discovering that she is more than the sum of her rap sheet. As Darlene struggles in her new city, the last thing she wants is to become entangled with her handsome—but cranky—neighbor and his adorable little girl…

Sawyer Haas is weeks away from finishing law school, but exhaustion, dwindling finances, and the pressure to provide for himself and his daughter, Olivia, are wearing him down. A federal clerkship–a job he desperately needs–awaits him after graduation, but only if he passes the Bar Exam. Sawyer doesn’t have the time or patience for the capricious—if beautiful—dancer who moves into the apartment above his. But Darlene’s easy laugh and cheerful spirit seep into the cracks of his hardened heart, and slowly break down the walls he’s resurrected to keep from being betrayed ever again.

When the parents of Olivia’s absentee mother come to fight for custody, Sawyer could lose everything. To have any chance at happiness, he must trust Darlene, the woman who has somehow found her way past his brittle barbs, and Darlene must decide how much of her own bruised heart she is willing to give to Sawyer and Olivia, especially when the ghosts of her troubled past refuse to stay buried.

 

Forever Right Now Excerpt:

 “Who are you?” he demanded rudely, shifting the diaper bag higher on his shoulder while hoisting his little girl in his other arm. He was six feet of hotness in a rumpled suit, glaring at me with suspicion in his dark eyes.

“I…I’m your new neighbor?” It sounded more like a question; as if I needed this guy’s permission to live. I straightened to my full height. “I just moved in upstairs. I’m a dancer. Well, I was. Had to take some time off but I’m going to get back into it soon…ish.” I put on my friendliest smile. “I’m a massage therapist now. Just got my license and…”

My words died under Sawyer’s withering stare.

“A dancer. Fantastic,” he said bitterly. “Just what I always wanted. Someone leaping and thumping above me, waking my kid up and disturbing my studies at all hours of the night.”

I planted my hands on my hips. “I can’t dance in a dinky apartment, and besides…”

Words failed me again as the sharp planes and hard angles of Sawyer’s face melted when his daughter–I guessed her to be about a year old–suddenly clapped her small hand over his chin. Sawyer’s hard gaze softened, and his broad mouth turned up in a smile–a beautiful smile I was sure only his little girl ever got to see, and so full of love that for a moment I could hardly breathe.

 

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2fRUBK8

Amazon Universal: myBook.to/EScottForeverRightNow
KOBO: http://bit.ly/FRNKobo
BN: http://bit.ly/FRNBNScott
iBooks: http://apple.co/2x0t8Au

Goodreads: https://goo.gl/LR6Kb9

 

 

 

 

Author Bio:

Emma Scott writes romances with flawed characters, characters with artistic hearts: builders, poets, and writers of various makes and models. And love always wins. Always.

 

Where to Find Emma:


Website: www.emmascott.net

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EmmaScottwrites
Twitter: @EmmaS_writes
Instagram: @EmmaScottWrites
Amazon: http://bit.ly/EmmaScott

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4.5 ‘with tuna casserole the world is brighter’ stars.

My first reaction when I finished was that I some off highs and lows of a rollercoaster ride and I truly had to let this book settle for a bit. Finding the words for an Emma Scott book is always hard, near impossible if I’m being honest.

Her writing style is flawless and she captivates you with her storytelling. She lets you experience that two of the most unlikely people that are attracted to one another, that complement each other and I got to watch them fall in love.

Her words jump off the pages and wrapped themselves around my soul. With the beauty, with the grit, with the flawed characters. You’ll understand their actions or not but there is a reason to them.  Each note for each city is hit impeccable IMO.

Even with Darlene facing an upward battle that smile always shone bright, it never dimmed.  The emptiness she feels is palpable to the reader and that she has this need to fill that emptiness up no matter with what.  Her journey is a tough one to read and even after so long be recovering there will be a time you hit rock bottom.

She is strong, persistent and gives life everything she has even if it will slip through her fingers.  At times I wanted to go out drinking with her at others I wanted to slap her in the face. But most of all I wanted to hug her and tell her that people do care.

But moving to San Francisco are for change to be Darlene and not a former drug addict. Scary but right.

Sawyer Haas is drowning, he can see the finish line but it can’t get here quick enough. Being at law school and looking after his daughter Olivia. BTW awesomeness sweetness with the little lady there Ms. Scott. My hat off to you.

Getting back to Sawyer. He has walls built so high and lets no one in. He is admirable in his devotion to kids. All I can say

<img class=”alignnone size-full wp-image-7132″ src=”https://jerisbookattic.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/imagesQZZGMXIN.jpg” alt=”” width=”283″ height=”178″ />

And Sawyer is a real man but when it counts that he is about to lose everything he goes all in.

I love the dance that Darlene and Sawyer had. They were circling each other throughout the book and fighting it but in the end it couldn’t be fought. I loved that there was such a great chemistry build up between these two.

But not everything is good in Kate’s Corner what I didn’t like is that Darlene did tell the truth sooner and that Sawyer didn’t realise that everything is black and white, he should have known that more than anyone else.

I see so many possibilities with new characters getting a book. Cause the secondary characters were just as fleshed out at our main characters. Max in Seattle maybe? Jackson the sunny go lucky guy? The love for Ms. Scott’s books is real. The ending slayed me.

 

 

 

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BURN FOR YOU by J.T. Geissinger

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We’re less than one week away from the release of BURN FOR YOU by J.T. Geissinger, so we’re bringing you a sneak peek! Check out the excerpt below, watch the teaser trailer, and preorder your copy today!

 

 

About BURN FOR YOU (Slow Burn #1)

Available October 17th

The marriage is fake. But for a sassy chef and an arrogant billionaire, the sparks are real… Jackson “The Beast” Boudreaux is rich, gorgeous, and unbelievably rude to the staff at Chef Bianca Hardwick’s New Orleans restaurant. Bianca would sooner douse herself in hot sauce than cook for Jackson again, but when he asks her to cater his fund-raiser, Bianca can’t refuse, knowing the cash will help pay her mother’s medical bills. Then Jackson makes another outrageous request: Marry me. The unconventional offer includes an enormous sum—money Bianca desperately needs, even if it does come with a contract—and a stunning ring.

The heir to a family bourbon dynasty, Jackson knows the rumors swirling around him. The truth is even darker. Still, he needs a wife to secure his inheritance, and free-spirited, sassy Bianca would play the part beautifully. Soon, though, their simple business deal evolves into an emotional intimacy he’s built walls to avoid.

As the passion heats up between them, Bianca and Jackson struggle to define which feelings are real and which are for show. Is falling for your fake fiancé the best happy ending…or a recipe for disaster?

Add BURN FOR YOU to your Goodreads list here!

 

Preorder BURN FOR YOU now!

 

Read an excerpt from BURN FOR YOU

This time it was me who froze in shock when our lips came together. It took him several long moments of gentle coercion with his tongue before I finally opened my mouth. When I did, it was on a soft groan that he stole when he inhaled.

He was so big, and warm, and hard everywhere, except for his mouth, which was like cotton candy. I melted into it. He slid his thumb under my ear, and I shivered. His fingers pressed into my scalp. When he sank his teeth gently into my lower lip, lightning flashed through me.

I fisted my hand into the scruff of his neck and pulled him closer.

Suck, slide, nip, repeat, feel your pulse in all the hidden places in your body. This kiss was cashmere. It was luxuriant. It was decadent, unhurried, sweetly delicious, like stretching out on warm sand and drinking a mai tai. His scent was in my nose: pine and musk and something earthy and fresh, the way the woods smell after it rains.

He made that masculine sound deep in his throat that I found weirdly thrilling and pressed his hand into the small of my back. It brought our lower bodies together and provided me with impressive evidence that Jackson Boudreaux was anything but nonsexual.

“Oh,” I breathed.

His laugh was soft and dark. “Yes, oh. Stop talking.”

I couldn’t catch my breath, but it didn’t matter because his lips were on mine again. Little puffs of air through my nose would have to sustain me.

His hand in the small of my back became the iron band of his arm around my waist. My nipples tightened. His heartbeat crashed against my chest. The kiss turned from slow and sweet to hard and hot, first melting me and then lighting me on fire.

He tangled his hand into my hair, pulled the clip loose that held it all in place, and let it fall to the floor. He made that sexy, manly noise again when my hair spilled into his fingers. I fought the urge to press my hips against his, then softly moaned in relief when he did it for me, one big paw cupped under my bottom. Yes, yes, yes, thrummed my heart, aching for more.

He broke away, breathing heavily. My eyes drifted open. He stared down at me with a look like he might devour me.

Good thing I was in the mood to be devoured.

 

See the BURN FOR YOU teaser trailer:

 

About J.T. Geissinger

A former headhunter, J.T. Geissinger is the author of more than a dozen novels in contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense.

She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book, the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and is a two-time finalist for the RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America®. Her work has also finaled in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne du Maurier Awards.

Join her Facebook reader’s group, Geissinger’s Gang, to take part in weekly Wine Wednesday live chats and giveaways, find out more information about works in progress, have access to exclusive excerpts and contests, and get advance reader copies of her upcoming releases.

Website | Newsletter | Facebook | Geissinger’s Gang | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Instagram

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Excerpt Reveal – Sick Fux by Tillie Cole

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When Ellis Earnshaw and Heathan James met as children, they couldn’t have been more different. Ellis was loud and beautiful – all blond hair, bright laughs and smiles. Heathan was dark and brooding, and obsessed with watching things die.
The pair forged an unlikely friendship, unique and strange. Until they were ripped apart by the sick cruelty of others, separated for years, both locked in a perpetual hell.
Eleven years later, Heathan is back for his girl. Back from a place from which he thought there was no return. Back to seek revenge on those who wronged them.
Time has made Heathan’s soul darker, polluted with hatred and the thirst for blood.
Time has made Ellis a shell of her former self, a little girl lost in the vastness of her pain.
As Heathan pulls Ellis out of her mental prison, reviving the essence of who she once was, down the rabbit hole they will go.
With malice in their hearts and vengeance in their veins, they will seek out the ones who hurt and destroyed them.
One at a time.
Each one more deadly than the last.
Tick Tock.

Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, disturbingly sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and very mature topics. Recommended for ages 18 and over.

Please note : this is excerpt is unedited and subject to change.

I placed the foot of my cane on the floor and looked to the left. The sound of light breathing came from around the corner. I made to move, but my heart slammed into a fast beat, stopping my feet in their tracks. My nostrils flared as I closed my eyes and tried to suck in deep breaths. I never did this, never had this kind of reaction to anything. Not in eleven years. Not when I was trapped in darkness. Not even when the guards came to “meet the young kid.” Not when we got out—bloodily, savagely, darkly. Especially not when my knife plunged into the guards’ hearts and I watched the life fade from their eyes, the pure fascination of losing one’s life essence occupying my mind.
But this was Dolly. The only person I’d ever given a shit about.
A slick tar pumped through my black heart as I thought of her. She was the blood that gave me life.
I had no idea what state I would find her in. Whether or not her fragile mind had been destroyed. Whether or not her glass heart had been shattered. No hope of salvation.
I had no idea if my only reason for living could be saved. I shook with venomous anger when I let my mind imagine the hell those sadistic cunts would have put her through in my absence. But Chapel’s words rang in my ears . . . Unleash the anger only on those who deserve it. Let it build within your heart like a well swelling with water . . . then unleash hell on those who took your freedom.
Opening my eyes, I breathed through my rage and silently rounded the corner . . . I stopped. There she was, sitting in a chair. I sucked in a breath and heard it rattle in my ears. Her hair. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid, the woven strands falling to her lower back. And she was dressed in black. Long, baggy sleeves covered her arms.
Motherfucking black. Dolly didn’t belong in black. Only color. Blue and white and gold and motherfucking pink.
I edged around the perimeter of the room until I faced her. My heart tore down the center and I had to hold back a loud snarl when I saw her curled up on the seat, a thick blanket over her thin legs and waist as she stared lifelessly out of the window. The window that overlooked the once-manicured lawns, now nothing but high-reaching weeds and too-bushy trees. I looked across at what she was watching, in the direction of what held her so captivated.
My heart was severed completely, the two parts of its flesh repelling the other, trying to escape the rage and pain and fucking consuming darkness.
She was staring at the spot where we used to play as kids. Where she had found me all those years ago, ripping the colorful butterfly apart in my hands. I moved into her line of sight, but her blue eyes didn’t lift to meet mine, just stared through me as though I wasn’t even there. I crouched down and studied her face. Porcelain skin. Full lips. Fucking perfection.
But there was no life left in her.
I had never felt fear before, but I imagined the sinking hole I felt dropping in my stomach was something like it. A sinking feeling that Dolly had gone to a place from which there was no escape, a prisoner in her own mind.
Fragility consumed.
“Dolly darlin,’” I rasped, my voice fucking breaking.
Twenty-one. She was twenty-one and more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.
Perfection.
My living doll.
A strand of hair lay over her face. My fingers clenched and unclenched as I tried to force myself to touch her. But I couldn’t. I hadn’t touched or been touched in years. I didn’t know how to anymore. Allergic to human affection. Repulsed by the degrading feeling of touch.
I . . . I . . . I couldn’t.
As I opened my mouth to speak to Dolly again, a loud gasp sailed through the air behind her. I straightened, gripping my cane, to see a familiar old face appear. I watched, the sinking hole quickly replaced by dark satisfaction as the blood drained from her face. “Good Lord,” she whispered as I smoothed down my black cravat and vest.
I glared at the bitch. Leaning casually on my cane, I said, “More like Lucifer, I would think.” I nodded in her direction “To you, anyhow.”
Mrs. Jenkins swallowed and tried to back out of the room. “Ah-ah,” I tutted and shook my head. She immediately stilled, eyes fixed on mine.
“He . . . Heathan James . . . it’s . . . it’s not possible . . .” she stammered and ran her eyes over me. Every inch of me.
“Rabbit.” The bitch flinched at my correction. “I am Rabbit. The motherfucking White Rabbit. So never fucking utter that peasant name to me again.”
Her skin paled, and her eyes fell to Dolly sitting on the chair. Dolly still hadn’t moved. I shifted my grip on the box I had brought inside, about to hold it out to Mrs. Jenkins when she asked, “How are you here?”
I threw the box across the room. It landed right at her feet. “Dress her.”
“Wh-what?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.
I pointed to the box at her feet. “Dress her. It wasn’t a request.” Mrs. Jenkins shook as she picked up the box and moved to where Dolly sat. Dolly didn’t look at her either. Mrs. Jenkins opened the lid of the box and gasped again.
Her old, wrinkled eyes snapped up to mine. “No—”
Before she had even finished the sentence, I had reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife. I ran the flat side of the blade down my cheek. Slowly. Controlled. Watching her terrified gaze track my every move. “You’d best do as I ask, Mrs. Jenkins. My patience and tolerance for you appear to be at an all-time low.”
Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.
Author Links

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Excerpt Reveal – Gun Shy by Lili ST. Germain

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Gun-Shy-iBooks.jpg



A stand alone psychological thriller.



HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?

In the middle of a fierce snowstorm in Gun Creek, Nevada, seventeen-year-old Jennifer Thomas disappears without a trace.

The second girl in nine years.

Identical cases. Identical conditions. Only last time, the girl was found. Dead, stuffed in a well beside the creek that feeds the town’s water supply.

The killer was never found.

As the small town mobilizes and searches for newly vanished Jennifer Thomas, one suspect comes to the fore. But did he do it? Or is there something else at play? Something nobody could have anticipated?

For Jennifer’s friend Cassie Carlino, the worst is yet to come. As she pins MISSING posters to store windows and joins the search, she begins to suspect that Jennifer’s disappearance might be much closer to her than she could have ever imagined.


CASSIE

The center of town is teeming with reporters when we arrive. The mood is somber, self-conscious, even. Can an entire town be collectively self-conscious? They’re shy, that’s for sure. We don’t get a whole lot of visitors in Gun Creek. Certainly not ones who stick microphones in your face and blast you with questions while you’re still half-asleep.
Damon parks the patrol car right across the front doors of the police station, his face drawn and tense. It must be a fucking nightmare, being in charge of an entire town like this. Especially when something like this happens.
I can only imagine how bad things are going to get at home if they don’t find this girl soon.
“These people are fucking vultures,” he mutters, and I make a noise signaling my agreement. He gets out, opening my door for me.
I muster up a plastic smile as Damon holds out my purse, the strap dangling on his outstretched finger.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the bag and slinging it over my shoulder. I put my oversized dollar-store sunglasses on my face, the day already too bright for me to bear.
“You okay?” Damon asks.
“Always,” I reply, walking away from him before he can say anything else. I should ask him if he’s okay, but that would mean pretending that I care.
I have something important that I need, something immediate.
I’m an asshole because I know I should care about the fact that a girl I’ve grown up with is missing, but I have more pressing personal matters.
I need to take care of myself, first. I head for the diner, fifty feet away, already late for my shift. I push past reporters, hanging eagerly at the doors they’re forbidden to cross. They have to hover outside in the snow for their pound of flesh, their soundbites, their newsworthy quotes from Jennifer’s distraught friends and family. I see Casey Mulligan, a girl I went to school with, twirling a strand of long blonde hair around her finger as she musters up a couple of fat tears for a news camera, and it strikes me, just like last time, that the people who get the most attention in this world are the ones who least deserve it.
Still, I’m glad it’s not me. Last thing I want is a camera in my face. I slip by, unassisted, unseen, an invisible girl with a hollow spot inside me. I notice the crates of milk that get delivered to Dana’s every morning are still stacked out front and I grab one as I approach, throwing my purse on top and bracing my stomach muscles to carry the thirty-odd pounds worth of liquid weight. One of our regulars holds the door open for me and I smile in thanks, lugging the milk crate through the diner and toward the cold storage out back.
I’m making my way down the main entrance, past rows of tables and customers talking feverishly about Jennifer, my arms full of milk bottles when it happens.
I see him. Him.
I stop.
My arms stop functioning. I drop everything; the milk crate, my purse, my practiced neutral expression. The purse wafts to the floor, the milk bottles hurtle down with an unceremonious crash, and blue plastic lids burst off and go skittering in every direction.
I sink to my knees, in shock. People are looking at me, but I don’t pay attention to them. I’m too busy fixated on the green-eyed ghost standing in front of me. The splinters in my knees sting like fire-ant bites, and I curl my legs to the side, coming to a sitting position.
“Shit!” Leo says, dropping his backpack to the ground and crouching in front of me. “Cass. Cassie. Are you okay?”
My entire body is alight, little pinpricks along my skin that make me dizzy. The feeling spreads like wildfire, across my chest and through my limbs until I’m overwhelmed and frozen on the spot, sitting on my ass in the middle of the diner, voices and whispers all around.
I watch in fascination as milk spreads in a puddle in front of me, like spilled blood. It rushes at me like a miniature tsunami as a painful buzz begins in my head.
“You’re gonna pass out,” Leo says, his words sounding far away as he reaches out a hand to help me up. “Jesus, Cassie, you’re white as a sheet.”
I hold my hand out, the conviction in my reach laughable, and it’s like that moment of electricity that people talk about. I can feel it build in my fingertips, that arc of some invisible thing that wants to join with his invisible thing, but then a hand wraps around my wrist and yanks my arm away before I can make contact with the boy — no, with the man — I thought was still in prison.
“Did he hurt you?” Damon’s voice in my ear breaks my dream-like state. I open my mouth to say something and decide against it, swallowing air instead. I shake my head.
“How’d you get on the ground?” Damon asks, shaking me a little.
“She fell down,” Leo says, his arm no longer outstretched. He takes a step away from me, and Jesus, it hurts. He looks anguished. “She dropped the milk and she fell down.” I can’t stop looking at him. I can’t bear to look at him.
The milk has reached me. It seeps across my right knee, curled underneath me; the backs of my thighs, my palms. It’s ice cold, and I can feel myself shaking.
Damon is crouched next to me, his hand on my cheek, diverting my attention to him. “Are you all right, Cassie?” he asks, helping me to my feet, his tone gathering more urgency with each question I don’t answer. Amanda is picking up the milk bottles beside us, piling them high in her arms as I continue to stare at Leo. He’s… different. He has tattoos now. He looks exactly the same but entirely reconstructed. He’s eight years older, I realize. A third of his life, gone. A third of mine. It feels like it’s been forever. It feels like it’s been no time at all.
Deputy Chris appears, looking between me and Leo with uncertainty. Why didn’t anyone tell me? How the hell did Leo just materialize from thin air in the Grill?
“Cassie,” Damon snaps, and I know he means business.
I nod. “I’m fine. I’m okay.” I think of where I was going before I saw fucking Leo. Pills. Purge. “I need a minute.”
“I’ll take you home,” Damon says, his hand on the small of my back as he starts to guide me toward the front doors. I panic, pushing him away.
“You have a missing girl to find,” I say quickly. “I’m fine, really. I just need some aspirin.” And a fucking gun, so I can put myself out of my misery.
“I’ll walk you there,” Damon says, ever the hero. If they only knew, I think to myself, as Amanda opens the staff room door and ushers us inside.
“Give us a minute,” Damon says, giving Amanda a concerned look. She nods, closing the door and waiting out in the hallway as Damon closes the blinds and twists the lock on the door.
“Didn’t think he’d have the balls to show his face in public,” Damon says, and that’s when I understand.
I feel the blood drain from my cheeks as I realize. He knew. He knew Leo would be here today. I ask him with my eyes, searching, imploring. His expression tells me everything.
“You could have warned me,” I whisper.
His eyes narrow. “I considered it. Figured it was better you didn’t know in advance.” He pauses. “Didn’t expect you to fall to your knees in front of him.”
“Fuck you,” I seethe.
Damon’s jaw twitches. “I’m sorry,” he offers, almost as if he’s suggesting an apology rather than delivering one.
I reach for the lock, twisting it and cracking the door open. The temporary quiet we’ve had is pierced by the excited noise of a diner who’s just witnessed the tragic reunion of two star-crossed lovers, or maybe they’re all just gossiping about the missing girl.
“Jennifer,” I hiss at Damon. One word. It works. He shakes his head, his blue eyes fucking burning with anger, but he leaves.
Holy shit. As soon as he’s gone, I close the door again. I don’t bother locking it — who’s going to find me in here? Leo’s long gone if he’s got any sense, and as much as I don’t care about anything, the thought of Amanda having to mop up the milk I spilled makes me so fucking guilty I can barely breathe.
Pills. Purge. Yes.
I go into the staff bathroom, a small tiled square off the main staff room, and start to throw up as soon as the door is closed. I don’t even need to stick my finger down my throat — I’m so full of adrenaline from seeing Leo, I just open my mouth and everything comes out. It’s the kind of vomit that gets in your nose and burns behind your eyes and makes you cry with the way it chokes you.
When I’ve emptied my stomach and I stop gagging, I clean myself up, my head feeling like it might split in two. I’m so hot I think I might burst into flames. I take off my cardigan, my fingers clumsy and damp, and use it to wipe my face.
Pills. Yes. I go back out to the staff room, seeking whatever pharmaceutical bliss I can rummage up from my staff locker. I didn’t switch the overhead lights on when I first came in, and the windowless cave is dim, the only illumination coming from the slightly ajar bathroom door and the fluorescent strips that line its ceiling.
The staff room is empty. Except… it’s not.
Leo. He’s here. Somehow, the only person here with me is the one person I shouldn’t be anywhere near.
He looks at me with eyes that have seen violence since I last gazed into them. I know because I recognize the hardness inside his soul; it matches mine.
My face is a blank canvas, but inside I’m screaming.
Not with fear. With longing. And shame. I want the boy who destroyed everything to pick me up and take me into the bathroom and put his hands all over me. I want him to erase every trace of the last decade. Under my shirt, my nipples stiffen, and shame pools in my belly.
I shouldn’t want to be anywhere near this boy after what he did, but I do.
“I’m sorry,” Leo says. His voice. Oh, God. I don’t remember his voice being that fucking beautiful. It’s deep and full and if it were a food, it’d be honey. He’s not a boy anymore. He’s a man now. A stranger.
His face falls as he gestures to my stomach, concerned. “You have blood on your shirt,” he says, pointing from a safe distance. “Did you cut yourself when you fell?” He looks remorseful. Like he thinks the blood on my shirt is his fault.
My heart sinks. I shake my head tightly, tears springing to my eyes.
“Not my blood,” I say, my voice coming out like a squeak. Leo looks confused.
“The dog,” I stammer. “Rox. She — she—”
“I saw her yesterday,” Leo says, his eyes wide as he looks from my eyes to the blood on my shirt. I didn’t even realize it was there. I’d been wearing my sweater until I took it off just now.
“She’s dead,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
Leo takes a step back. Something passes over his face, a darkness, a fleeting suspicion. “How?” he asks.
I don’t know how to answer that. So I don’t. I push past him and start walking to the kitchen, as fast as I can, because I don’t have an answer for him. My shoulder burns from where I grazed his arm on the way out of the staff room. He might have ruined my life, destroyed my family, taken my future in one careless night — but Leo Bentley still makes me burn like hellfire.

Lili writes dark, delicious romance full of love, lust and revenge. Her USA Today Bestselling Gypsy Brothers series focuses on a morally bankrupt biker gang and the young woman who seeks her vengeance upon them. The Cartel series is a trilogy that explores the beginnings of the club, published through HarperCollins.

Lili quit corporate life to focus on writing and so far is loving every minute of it. Her other loves in life include her gorgeous husband and beautiful daughter, excellent coffee, Tarantino movies and spending hours on Instagram.

She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write.
Author Links

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Excerpt Reveal – Forever Devoted by CA Harms

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★ ★ #ExcerptReveal & #PreOrder ★ ★
FOREVER DEVOTED by @CAHarms
#ContemporaryRomance / Crazed Devotion #2
 
Releasing Sept. 26th #KindleUnlimited
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2wEjwXm
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2w5FmDF
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2wEA0OR
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2xOTQw9
 
A stubborn man, an independent woman. 
Oh how those two things clash.
 
Former Marine, Benjamin Keaton has a drive in him. 
A strong willed nature to seek and conquer.
 
When he meets Elizabeth Berfield he finds out one thing and he finds out fast.
He has met his match.
 
She doesn’t let anyone tell her what to do, especially a man.
 
A battle of wills and a game of survival unfolds. Oh what a ride it is.
 
But Ben vows one thing,
He will be Forever Devoted to Liz. He will make her see that he is the man for her.
 
But will his determination be enough to convince her that he’s worth the risk?
 
Or will Liz do what she always does and remain headstrong and push away the one man willing to protect her heart.
 
ADD TO YOUR #TBR! http://bit.ly/ForeverDevotedTBR
 
★ ★ PRE-ORDER AVAILABLE ★ ★
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2wEjwXm
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2w5FmDF
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2wEA0OR
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2xOTQw9
 
#Excerpt #ReadToday
LIZ
“There is a tall, handsome and might I add dreamy hunk of a man waiting just outside for you.” 

I tried not to laugh at the wide-eyed expression of the teenage girl standing in my doorway. She was awestruck apparently, and the way she was smiling had to cramp her cheeks.

“Did you get his name?” I asked, already knowing who it was.

Her smile faltered as she looked over her shoulder, then back to me. “I forgot to ask,” she said in a high-pitched voice. “I guess I was distracted.”

It was my turn to smile, “Believe me when I say I know exactly how that can happen.” She looked a little relieved. “His name is Ben, and you can send him in.” 

With a nod, she stepped out and within seconds he appeared in the open doorway.

“Good morning,” he said as he moved in and sat on the edge on my desk. His large frame practically swallowed up the surface beneath him. “You avoiding me again?”

“No.” I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’ve actually been busy.”

He watched me closely, as if I would somehow show him I was lying. Arching my brow, I remained in place and his smile grew wider. “Have lunch with me.” It wasn’t a request.

“Busy,” I replied, holding up the stack of papers on my desk and giving them a little shake.

“Dinner then. I’ll even bring it to you if you can’t get away.”

“What are we having?” I asked, still not yet agreeing. 

“What do you want?” His eyes remained locked on mine as he gave me a mischievous grin. Ben and I had developed this little flirty game. In fact, we’d pretty much mastered it. I knew he wanted me, and I wanted him. That was never the issue. I just had to learn to get past my hesitance and fears of what could go wrong.

“Steak,” I finally said, ignoring the flutter in my stomach. “Seasoned vegetables and garlic roasted potatoes.”

“Can we forego the garlic? I kinda wanna kiss you later and I don’t want any excuses from you. If I add garlic into the mix, well, I’m setting myself up for disappointment.”

I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up and spilled from me. “You’re insane.” 

“For you, yes.” 

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Blog Tour – Delirious by M.S. Force

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BLURB: 

As one of Hollywood’s hottest producers, Kristian Bowen is on top of the world. With the Quantum team is fresh off a clean sweep of awards season and looking ahead to the premiere of their new film, Insidious, Kristian’s life is exactly how he likes it, complete with a stable of willing subs to tend to his every desire. Until he attends the wedding of his friend and business partner Flynn Godfrey and meets AileenGifford, the close friend of Flynn’s new wife, Natalie. Since meeting Aileen five months ago, Kristian’s carefully cultivated life has changed in ways he never could’ve expected. Now Aileen and her children are moving to Los Angeles, and he’s not sure whether to be excited or terrified about his powerful feelings for the single mom…
Aileen is coming off the worst year of her life, spent battling breast cancer while taking care of two young children. When Natalie, Flynn and their other friends encourage Aileen to move to LA and work for Quantum, she jumps at the chance to give her family a fresh start. And with her off-the-charts attraction to Flynn’s business partner in the mix, the idea of living in LA becomes that much sweeter. Until everyone shows up to welcome her and the kids to their new home in LA—except Kristian.
He can’t avoid her forever, and when these two finally see each other again, sparks fly between the single mom and the producer with a past he’s kept hidden from everyone who matters to him. When that past rears its ugly head, will he run away from the woman he loves or turn to her for comfort in the storm? And will she prevail in convincing him that he can be himself, in every possible way, with her?
Kristian and Aileen’s long-awaited story is full of heat, heart and humor, as well as appearances from all the Quantum characters readers love!

Purchase Delirious now!
Kindle US  |  iBooks  |  Nook |  Kobo  |  Google |  Kindle CA |  Kindle UK |  Kindle AU
Order a signed copy from Marie’s store, Amazon and Barnes & Noble. 

AUTHOR BIO:

M.S. Force is the erotic alter-ego of New York Times bestselling author Marie Force. All three books in her initial Quantum Trilogy were New York Times bestsellers in 2015, and the Quantum Trilogy became the Quantum Series with Rapturous and Ravenous, with more to come!
Marie Force is the New York Times bestselling author of more than 50 contemporary romances, including the Gansett Island Series, which has sold nearly 3 million books, and the Fatal Series from Harlequin Books, which has sold 1.5 million books. In addition, she is the author of the Butler, Vermont Series, the Green Mountain Series and the erotic romance Quantum Series, written under the slightly modified name of M.S. Force. All together, her books have sold more than 5.5 million copies worldwide!
Her goals in life are simple—to finish raising two happy, healthy, productive young adults, to keep writing books for as long as she possibly can and to never be on a flight that makes the news.
Join Marie’s mailing list for news about new books and upcoming appearances in your area. Follow her on Twitter @marieforce and on Facebook. Join one of Marie’s many reader groups. Contact Marie at marie@marieforce.com. Subscribe to her new blog to hear the latest and greatest news, including giveaways and other great prizes. Go to the blog and enter your email address on the upper right-hand side.
AUTHOR LINKS:
Website:  http://marieforce.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarieForceAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarieForce
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/marieforceauthor/
Newsletter: http://marieforce.com/subscribe/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1508588.Marie_Force
Reader Groups: https://marieforce.com/contact/

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Excerpt Reveal – Dismissed by TL Smith

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Title: Dismissed

Series: Smirnov Bratva #4

Author: TL Smith

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: September 21

A heart is something that should not be entrusted to me.
I will tear, crush, and destroy it with my very own hands.
Then back away with a smile on my face.
It’s who I am—a killer, a player, a joker.
But hers, I’m unsure about.
Do I want to rupture and rip it from her chest?
Or do I want to hold and capture it with my own?

Anton

Her scent invades me, it’s all I can smell when I wake up, and it’s fucking brilliant. Just as she was last night, even if it meant I had to shut up to taste her and to fuck her again. What a wild drug she fucking is.

“I can hear you thinking, stop it,” she grumbles into my arm as she sleeps. “Gosh, how are your thoughts so loud?” She moves to get away from me, but I pull her back then pin her beneath me. She doesn’t fight me, just smirks. “I need coffee,” she says.

“You need a breath mint,” I retort back, scrunching up my nose.

“Oh my God, you so did not say that. I’m meant to have sweet breath…” I blow into my hand to smell, “… no morning breath here. Gosh, you kill the buzz fast.” She wiggles underneath me, which in turn moves on my already hard cock. I could say it’s morning wood, but that would only be a half-truth.

“You want me to lie and tell you, you smell like fucking daisies?” I ask her, confused. She shakes her head. “I can see if you smell like daisies. There’s a particular area where I think you do.” I smirk while holding onto her hands, and then I drop lower as I drag my body down over on hers. She squirms, but she can’t do anything.

“Anton, Anton.”

My lips touch her, barely, and she squeezes her legs tight, locking my head between them. I have to remove my hands from hers to push myself free.

“Anton.” The voice is loud.

Looking back up, I see Samara’s expression and want to laugh.

“Mama, just wait,” I yell in Russian.

Samara pushes back and off me, scrambles off the bed and looks around for her clothes, which are downstairs.

“I have your lady’s clothes, Anton. Is she still in there?”

English, my mother chose to speak English. Fuck.

“Yes, leave them at the door.”

“Bring her down.” I hear her footsteps walking away, and when I turn, I see Samara with her hands covering her mouth and a freaked-out expression on her face.

She starts shaking her head rapidly. “I am not meeting your mother.”

“I have a better idea, let’s spend all day in bed while I fuck you until you can’t move.”

“Are you insane? Your mother is here.”

I shrug my shoulders. “She was here last night when I brought you home.”

Her hands drop to her sides, and she looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “This is your mother’s house?” I nod my head. “And you still live with your mother?” she asks, looking quite confused.

“Technically my father as well, but that piece of shit is always in Russia. My sister is here too, now that she’s no longer enrolled in boarding school.”

“Gosh, I don’t care… sneak me the fuck out of here now.” She pulls the sheet from the bed when she realizes she’s still naked and my eyes keep roaming.

“But I wanted to smell for daisies.”

“Anton, so help me God, I’ll bury you in the daisy bushes if you don’t get me out of here.”

I quirk an eyebrow at her—it’s her daisy bush I would love to be buried in.

“Not those ones, you perv, in the fucking ground.”

“I like it when you’re feisty with me,” I say, turning and opening the door to pick up her clothes, and that’s when I realize they are torn. Alyona walks out of her room, at that exact moment, with a few clothes in her hands and she walks them to me then smiles.

“Hi Sam,” she chimes, then walks off.

Closing the door, I hold both sets of clothes in my hand, the torn ones as well as Alyona’s.

“Why do you have two sets of clothes?” Samara walks up to me still holding the sheet in her hand in front of her as she reaches for hers, then realizes the same thing I did. She isn’t walking out in them. She looks up to me, her eyes have turned dark. They’re almost black as her anger builds, so I pass her the other set of clothing. She snatches them then walks away to my bathroom, slamming the door.

I guess that’s the end of my pussy patrol for the day.

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USA Today Best Selling Author T.L Smith can be found in almost any chocolate store, eating all the chocolate. She lives in Brisbane, Australia with her two kids and husband. Her favourite things to do is dancing, writing, reading and travelling the world. A lover for twisted words and things that make your heart pump. You can find her on the following links.

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