Teagan O’Brien, heiress to the Riley
O’Brien & Co. denim empire, is anything but a spoiled rich girl. She’s
worked hard to secure her place in the family business and can hold her own, in
and out of the office. Only one man has ever been able to get under her
skin—sexy football star Nick Priest. Years ago they crossed the line from
friends to lovers, but he left her heartbroken. Since then, she’s been
determined to keep him at arm’s length—no matter how tempting he looks in his
Nick has fortune, fame, and looks
that make most women hot and bothered. But he doesn’t have the woman he really
wants. He knows he screwed up when he walked away from Teagan, and now that he
has a second chance, he’ll do whatever it takes to win her over—no matter how
tongue-tied he gets…
Jenna Sutton spent most of her career as an
award-winning journalist covering business-related topics including healthcare,
commercial real estate, retail, and technology. Nowadays she writes about hot,
lovable guys and the smart, sexy women who make them crazy. It’s the
culmination of a lifelong dream, and she feels so lucky to be able to do it.
Jenna has a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism from Texas Christian
University and a Master’s degree in Integrated Marketing Communications from
Jenna and her husband live in a 103-year-old house in Texas.
Book Title: Blooders Author:Laura Catherine Genre:Paranormal Romance Release Date: December 15, 2015 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
Kyra knows a lot about herself:
She is a Djinn, a magical genie-creature.
She can move things with her mind, but only when she’s emotional.
She’s in love with Will, but he is forbidden to her.
But there are things Kyra doesn’t know:
Why are the Blooders after her?
What is her mother hiding?
Why is her best friend avoiding her?
The closer Kyra gets to the truth, the closer she gets to danger and devastation.
But nothing will stop her.
Laura Catherine is Young Adult author focusing on Paranormal Romance, Dystopia, and Fantasy.
She writes stories full of action, secrets, and magic. She loves creating worlds where anything is possible and everyone has a story to tell. She has an over-active imagination, spends a lot of her time daydreaming, and wishes pokemon were real so she would have one.
Book Title: Healing Eden (Eden Series) Author:Rhenna Morgan Genre: Contemporary Fantasy Romance Release Date: December 8, 2015 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
In a world divided by war, falling in love is the ultimate betrayal.
Galena Shantos has never questioned her loyalty to Eden. As sister to the Myren king, she serves as a healer, one of the best in the army fighting to suppress the brutal Lomos Rebellion. She’s never doubted the importance of stopping the rebels bent on enslaving humans, until she spots a warrior across enemy lines—and knows instinctively that their destinies are entwined. . .
Rebellion warrior Reese Theron has nothing left to lose. He’s been forced to fight on the wrong side of a war he abhors in order to protect his family secret. His honor lost, as well as the trust of his own people, Reese has thrown himself into a battle he cannot possibly hope to survive. But after being rescued by a beautiful woman whose exquisite eyes seem to see him for more than the traitor he’s become—he may have just found a new reason to live. . .
A lightning bolt sheared past Reese into the smoke-filled night sky and left an acrid stench in its wake. Streaks of fire and blue-white fingers of electricity flared so bright he could barely focus. He wasn’t getting out of this. Not this battle, or this life, with any modicum of honor.
Darting through the air, he dodged another electrical strike.
An elite flashed into view and swung wide, his bloodied dagger aimed at Reese’s gut.
Reese barrel-rolled up and over his attacker, wrapped him in a chokehold, and masked their presence from the rest of the fighters. Praise the Great One, he should be fighting beside this warrior, not against him.
The warrior flailed and tried to break free, the lack of footing giving him zero leverage. He slumped, unconscious, into Reese’s ready hold seconds later.
He lowered them both to the tree line at the battle’s edge, out of site from the rebels. The man couldn’t be more than twenty years outside his awakening. Probably barely into his elite torc and cuffs. Beneath Reese’s fingers, the man’s pulse thrummed slow, but steady. At least this innocent’s death wouldn’t be on his conscience.
A twenty-five-foot wall of flame exploded across the open field and rattled the air and earth around them. The bright flare faded under heavy night, and more rebellion warriors thunked to the mottled field.
The sharp rustle of leaves against the forest floor sounded down the tree line, one quick shift and then silence.
Reese backed deeper into the foliage and strengthened the mask that kept him hidden. It couldn’t be a rebellion man. All those were engaged against the malran’s warriors. Focusing his thoughts, he sought the soulless black thread that represented the link he’d grudgingly created with Maxis Steysis, and traced his location.
No, not the rebellion leader either. His energy showed more than ten miles to the east, well away from the fight. Reese levitated off the forest floor and floated through the trees. Gnarled and leafless branches scraped his cheek and shoulders. Darkness enveloped him, broken only by the bright attacks where the forest opened to the battle beyond.
There. Not five feet from the tree line, a figure knelt facing the battle.
He drifted closer. The sweet, damp scent of soil and decomposing leaves overpowered the metallic residue of electrical strikes floating on the wind. Grunts, shouts, and the too-frequent thuds of perished men sounded in a haphazard pattern.
A flash spotlighted long, auburn hair. A woman. Bowed over a body, she cradled a fallen companion’s head in her lap.
Reese angled to better see her and nearly faltered in holding his mask. His heart kicked in an awkward rhythm and reality faded to nothingness. Galena Shantos, sister to the malran. The last person he wanted to witness his disgrace.
Seventy years since he’d seen her this close. Her elegant features were still as staggering as the days when he’d trained to serve the malran, but there was more to her now. A confidence in the way she protected her charge and watched the battle. Knowledge behind her tropical blue-green eyes that spoke of experience and age.
And he fought alongside the men who battled her brother.
Galena flinched at another blast and hugged the limp body she cradled tight. As the light dimmed, she uncurled from her burden.
Another woman, her long blond hair stark against Galena’s black tunic and leggings, and her sightless eyes aimed at the heavens.
No. Surely not. Reese crept closer, pressure building at his temples. The zings and thunder of battle rumbled louder, and his gut clenched.
Phybe. She’d been alive when Reese left her, tucked away in a zeolite mine where Maxis couldn’t trace her link. He touched down in the thick carpet of leaves at Galena’s right and dropped his mask. “I failed her.”
Galena jerked and reached for something beneath one leg. “Who are you?”
Smudges marked Phybe’s ashen face, her blue gown torn and satin slippers stained. Somehow Maxis had found her and finished the job he’d sent Reese to do. “He’ll kill me for trying to save her.”
More strikes burst through the thick residual smoke, the malran’s fighters airborne and casting one attack after another. Fewer than twenty rebellion men still lived, half retreating north.
“A cause that fights without honor isn’t worth fighting, is it?” he said.
Galena straightened and squared her shoulders. “I’d have a hard time counting on honor from any man who fights with Maxis.”
“You’re right. I gave that up the moment I agreed to his schemes.” He crouched beside them.
Galena tensed and tightened her grip on whatever she hid beneath her leg.
Reese palmed Phybe’s forehead, cool and lifeless. May your journey be swift and your spirit find peace with The Great One. The same Myren prayer he’d offered his mother when she’d drawn her last breath. He stepped back. Maybe it was time to find his own peace. On his own terms. “You don’t remember me do you?”
She shook her head. A terse, barely-there jerk as she eased from beneath her dead charge, crouched on the balls of her feet and coiled for escape.
“My name is Reese Theron.”
She froze, flashes of light from the battle winking off the edge of her blade. She assessed him head to toe, no spark of recognition.
Maybe if he’d been braver all those years ago, he’d have had a chance with her. Or broken his vow and killed Maxis himself when he’d had the chance. He shook the memories off. He’d taken the wrong path and now it was time to pay. “Call your guards. Make sure they know you’re in danger.”
A gunshot rattled the skies and a woman’s blood-curdling scream sounded across the battlefield.
Galena lurched to a stand and then stopped, zigzagging her attention between the shouts along the battlefield and Phybe’s body.
Now was his chance. Either he took the brave farewell, or he’d die by Maxis’ hands. “Your face is a good one to remember. Go with The Great One, Galena.” He shot to the sky and built a violent ball of energy in his palm, sharp tendrils darting from its center. Drawing back, he aimed the bogus attack at Galena. Surely The Great One would understand.
An elite guard spun from across the skies and drew back for counter- attack.
Reese braced for impact.
A streak of auburn flashed below him. Galena, spearing through the air, her trajectory centered between the elite and Reese.
The energy in his palm fizzled. Not her. Not Galena.
Lightning fired from the elite’s palm, sheered past Galena’s cheek, and pierced his shoulder. He jerked and spasmed, locked in place by the force of the strike. Blue-black spots dotted his vision and his lungs seized.
A woman’s scream ripped through the air.
Wind whipped around him, dead weight as he fell, and darkness took
Galena twisted midair and shot toward Reese, wind blurring hereyesight.
His arms and legs flailed boneless as he hurtled to the earth.
She’d never make it before impact. Even if he survived the fall,Jagger’s strike had been a killing shot, off by inches at most.
Reese crashed against the unforgiving ground, his head and limbsthunking against the trampled turf.
She landed seconds behind him. The sticky iron scent of blood, dirt,
and sweat surrounded her. So many men strewn across the grass, their bodies contorted in unnatural shapes.
Less than ten feet away one of her brother’s men struggled for breath, unconscious with a trail of blood at his temple. A loyal fighter who’d battled against an indecent and cruel rebellion.
But it was Reese her palms burned to touch. To feel the beat of his heart. She dropped to her knees and rolled Reese to his back, muscles surging with wells of strength she’d never felt.
His pulse fluttered beneath her fingertips, faint and irregular.
A thud sounded behind her. Her name registered, a voice she recognized.
She ignored the call. Shedding her mortal form, she dove into Reese’s unconscious body and let her spirit spread and assess. Gaping, charred flesh at least two fists wide, muscle and sinew around it lifeless from the electrical shock. She followed the damage, too much impairment radiating dangerously close to his heart. She couldn’t lose him. Traitor or not, her instincts didn’t care. Only knew this moment would shape the rest of her life in a way she didn’t dare ignore.
Shouts rang out beside her. Short, brusque words delivered with a frustrated bite. Footsteps shuffled around her and the injured moaned. Detached in spirit but still connected to her physical senses, the muffled distractions rattled as she healed.
Five inches. That was the gift of her intervention. Had she not flown in the path of Jagger’s bolt, he’d have pierced Reese’s heart. Blood seeped from the violent gash and his heart trembled with the aftershocks of the delivering jolt.
Swift and sure, she spread her spirit, cauterizing and mending the most critical lesions. A touch here. A brush there.
Near his heart, a fine opaque mist appeared.
Her spirit vision faltered. The odd substance settled into every nook and cranny. It shimmered and sparkled, a mix between morning dew and midnight fog. Seventy years she’d been healing men and not once had she seen anything like it.
“Damn it, Lena, we need you.” The admonition rang in her ear and a firm hand clamped on her shoulder.
Galena ripped her spirit from Reese’s body and spun in a levitated twist to a defensive crouch, hands lifted to protect herself. Her vision wavered.
Ramsay came into focus, the whites around his gray eyes glowing in a way that promised dire loss of control and a vicious scowl aimed squarely at her. “What in histus is wrong with you?”
Her knees nearly buckled. Maybe she’d put too much into her healing. “He’s wounded.”
“He’s a traitor. To me and to Eryx.” Glaring at her, he swept his arm behind him. “What about them?”
There were dozens of them. Good men, battered, bloody, and fatigued. Most were upright and lumbering across the battlefield, checking for rebellion survivors. Six were laid out for triage close to Maxis’ estate, Eryx and Ludan seeing to their care.
Her cheeks burned and her stomach pitched. There wasn’t any logic to defend her actions. She’d acted on pure emotion and instinct, and put the lives of loyal men at risk, but she still wouldn’t change what she’d done. Not a second. A truth she wasn’t altogether sure how to process.
“Focus on the ones worthy of your gift. Not someone—”
“Enough.” She straightened and met her brother’s scowl. Every muscle shook with fatigue. “I watched an innocent woman die tonight. Held her in my arms while she screamed.”
“Trust me.” Ramsay glowered at the unconscious man behind her. “He’s not innocent.”
For years she’d trusted her brothers. Loved and followed them with unwavering loyalty wherever they asked her to go. Until this moment. She inched forward on trembling legs, hands fisted at her sides. “Innocent or not, I saw goodness in him. Watched him say a prayer over Phybe’s body and felt his grief. Healing is my gift to use when and how The Great One guides me. Not to be commandeered and directed by a man swept up in the heat of battle. Life is life, no matter whose heart feeds it.”
Ramsay sneered. “Even Maxis Steysis?”
Nearly six hundred years their families had been at war, since their grandfather left Maxis’ grandmother pregnant at the altar in favor of a commoner.
“Everyone has a shred of goodness in them.” Well, maybe not Maxis. But she’d be damned if she let Ramsay question her judgment. There was a reason she was drawn to Reese. She just needed a little time to figure out why. “If you’d stop and think for a minute you’d know saving him is a smart move. If he fought with Maxis, he knows things. Things you won’t be able to learn anywhere else.”
Reese’s chest rose and fell, slow and steady. With a push from her senses, she registered the faint but solid rhythm of his heart. More than anything she ached to kneel beside him. To finish the job she’d begun and skim her fingers through his wild hair. Perhaps link her fingers with his long, tapered ones and rest alongside him while she waited for him to wake.
Praise The Great One, what was wrong with her? This protectiveness didn’t make sense.
Eryx’s best friend and somo, Ludan, shouted from the furthest edge of battle. “Ramsay.”
Galena knew that tone. Had heard it after too many battles. Another warrior in need of care. With a last glance at Reese to placate herself, she headed in Ludan’s direction. “I’ve got it.”
Three steps in she stopped and glared at Ramsay. “You may not care for him. May see him as the vilest of men. But do not disrespect my gift by hurting him.”
She left her frowning brother behind, and prayed the promise of a traitor’s information would stay Ramsay’s hand until she returned.
Rhenna Morgan writes for the same reason she reads—to escape reality.
Yes, her life rocks—two beautiful little girls, a great husband, a steady job, and the kind of friends that would take you out back if you hurt her. But, like most women, she’s got obligations stacked tight from dusk to dawn. So, when the world gets her down, she slips into something…less realistic.
Romance is a must. So is a steamy romp (or four). Nothing thrills her more than the fantasy of new, exciting worlds, strong, intuitive men, and the sigh of, “Oh if only that could happen to me.”
So, if you’re picking up one of her books, expect portals into alternate realms and men who’ll fight to keep the women they want. Romantic escape for the women who need it.
Book Title: Perfect Ruin Author: Nashoda Rose Genre: Erotic Romance Release Date:December 14, 2015 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
The New York Times Best Selling author Nashoda Rose is back with the much anticipated story of Kai and London in the Unyielding series.
There is nothing I care about.
Outwardly, I’m a perfect gentleman.
Until my target sees my knife.
I fear nothing, not even death.
In my world, death is considered a privilege.
But my life comes with unbreakable cruel strings and
when I met her, I should’ve walked away.
I was too selfish.
And that sealed her fate.
Because one week with me led her into the hands of ruin.
We all have unique layers that make up who we are.
What makes us vulnerable or strong.
What we fear and what excites us.
But peel back those layers and you’re left naked and exposed.
They did that to me.
Each piece was slowly stripped away then burned.
I merely existed.
But there was one layer they overlooked.
The most important of them all—the tie to one man.
The man responsible for me being this way.
The man who found me.
And the killer who would do anything to protect me.
Perfect Ruin is the dark erotic story of Kai and London.
And the continuing story of Vault.
“If there was no deal, would you want me? Do you want me?” he drawled.
Did I? Yes. I wanted the man who had held me in his arms and told me he’d always come for me. I wanted him. I’d always wanted him. “Yes,” I whispered.
“Good. Then this is day one,” he murmured against the back of my neck as his lips made contact.
“Please. Tell me… I need something to make this… okay.” Nothing would make this okay. I knew that. This was a deal and I was trading my body for my father’s safety to a man who was obviously dangerous.
It was just sex. That was all.
But no matter what I told myself, I knew sex with Kai was more than the act. I felt it the second my body reacted to him and my mind fought him.
He suckled on the lobe of my ear and desire spread like wildfire. “You’re safe with me. Always.”
“And if I don’t believe you?” But the *******-up part was that I did believe him.
He pulled back slightly, just enough so I no longer had the heat of his body against me, but still felt the closeness. “That’s up to you. But your body trusts me and if there is one thing in life you should trust, it’s your body.”
He released one of my wrists. Brushing my hair aside from my neck, he replaced the touch of his finger with his mouth. His lips trailed a path of gentle, light kisses of heat over my skin and some of the tension left my body.
“What if my body is wrong?” I closed my eyes and curled my hands into fists, unable to move. Afraid to. Wanting to.
“Your body doesn’t know how to be wrong. The only lies are the ones your mind feeds it.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
“I’ll make it go away, baby.”
Nashoda Rose is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Toronto with her assortment of pets. She writes contemporary romance with a splash of darkness, or maybe it’s a tidal wave.
When she isn’t writing, she can be found sitting in a field reading with her dogs at her side while her horses graze nearby. She loves interacting with her readers and chatting about her addiction—books.
Heath Lancaster’s happy to be on the practice squad of a professional football team, but instead of a lucky break taking him to the next level, a league-wide strike leaves him unemployed. Until he finds a new semi-pro league in Virginia Beach, where a bikini-clad hottie snags one of his passes on the beach and offers him a tour of the area . . .
A scandalous affair turned Jordan Kelly into media fodder–and in no hurry to get back into the dating game. But the easy going tight end of the new Triton’s team unleashes an inhibited wild streak in her and has her tempting him with a game of her own. But when she finds out who the owner of the Tritons is, she’s wondering if she’ll repeat her mistakes . . .
Heat, ninety-percent humidity, pain and exhaustion. None of it mattered. Football fueled Heath Lancaster’s blood. Sweat streamed down his face as he drove the sled another five yards.
After six grueling weeks, he’d made the cut to play on Virginia Beach’s new semi-pro team. Over the grunts and groans of the offensive line, a whistle blew, stopping them mid-step.
Heath yanked off his helmet then grabbed one of the water lines from the portable station. Cooling H2O washed over his head and face before he gunned a stream down his parched throat.
“Wanna hit the beach after lunch?” Dugan McKenzie, drank from another hose.
Dugan ran through a string of women the first couple of weeks of camp until he nearly washed out. Performance now improved, and on the roster, he was on the hunt again. This time, Heath planned to join him, imagining cool waves and a sea of curves wearing bikinis. “Sure. Meet you back at the house.”
After practice, he showered and donned a pair of board shorts and a Tritons t-shirt. He climbed into his open-door Jeep and clicked on his seat belt as his cell phone went off. For the first time in weeks, he answered without checking the display.
“Hey, babe,” Sandy cooed.
Crap! After a couple of weeks without calls, he figured she’d given up. “How’s Ben?”
What else should he say to the woman he’d found with her tongue down a friend’s throat? Make that former friend.
“You misunderstood, Heath. He was inconsolable after Marcie left him.”
“Yeah right, so you were just giving him a little mouth to mouth resuscitation?” Silence filled his ear. “Ancient history and I’m a time zone away now.”
Click. He accelerated the Jeep out of the sports complex. It had taken weeks to gain some distance from her manipulations. After her call, the commercial Virginia Beach oceanfront seemed intrusive.
A June sun blazed brightly in a cloudless sky while he cruised down Sand Fiddler Lane. Ninety degrees was cool compared to summer heat in Texas. When he’d signed the six-month lease on the house, the realtor touted Sandbridge as a locals’ beach.
He pulled into the driveway and found Dugan beneath the stilted house, applying a coat of wax to the chrome of his Fat Boy Harley. He and his linebacker buddy had scraped through college classes but shined on the gridiron. They’d landed on the practice squad of a pro team in Texas a couple of years ago, but in March the league went on strike.
Dugan paused from his task and squinted at him with brown eyes. “You look pissed. We still going to check out the local talent?”
“You go ahead. Think I’ll just go snooze at Sandbridge.” He grabbed his bag from the Jeep.
She called again?” He continued buffing the red metallic gas tank to a high sheen.
Through his sunglasses, Heath leveled a hard stare at Dugan. He’d almost been glad for the league’s strike just to get away from Sandy.
“You’re better off without her, man. She was dragging you down.” He tossed the rag into the bucket of cleaning supplies.
Heath regretted playing her stupid mutt for months. “Think she’s figured out her new dog isn’t as easy to train. She might be having second thoughts.”
“Hope you’re not going to roll over if she decides to head this way.” Dugan had a gritty determination and was known as a man who never got involved.
Heath intended on picking up similar habits since his defunct relationship. “Those days are done, bro.” He reassured Dugan before climbing the stairs.
After snagging a brew from the fridge, he sat on one of the bar chairs. Through the sliding glass door, the blue Atlantic looked cool and inviting after his hard practice. This view had sold him on signing the lease.
The house’s central living area and kitchen with bar combo separated the bedrooms and included a bathroom on each side which appealed to their bachelor-style living. Plus he didn’t have to hear Dugan when he had a chick stay over.
He pulled out his phone and blocked Sandy’s cell number. With a new road ahead, he put her in his “done and moved on” category.
Dani Jace enjoys writing headstrong, flip-flop casual heroines and everyday heroes who work with their hands―and other body parts. Claiming the Outer Banks of North Carolina as her second home, she includes the scenic and legendary chain of barrier islands as a setting for many of her tales. When not working on her next novel, she’s dipping her toes in the ocean, reading or checking out the newest action flick. Her husband, son and many imaginary characters make life complete.
What can I say? I’m not a nice person. When I walk by, people call me a slut, and I’m okay with that. I believe in calling a spade a spade. I am a slut.
With the holidays approaching, I miss belonging to The Last Riders. Drake’s keeping me warm, but he wants more than I can give. He wants me to trust him, to believe he can protect me. Doesn’t he know Santa put me on the Naughty List long ago?Nice What can I say? I’m a nice guy and have always done the responsible thing.
Bliss is everything I shouldn’t want, but it’s hard to resist a woman who stopped believing in miracles. She wants to be back with The Last Riders, whom she considers her true family. Doesn’t she know it’s Christmas, and miracles do happen?
“Who are you going out with?”
Knowing Genny was still determined to try to become BFFs with her, Bliss almost didn’t tell her, but honestly, she couldn’t find a reason not to. It wasn’t like she was going to come home afterward and have a chat-fest about it.
A concerned look crossed Genny’s face. “Be careful, Bliss.”
Bliss couldn’t help laughing. “I can handle Drake.”
“Don’t be too sure. He has a reputation in town for leaving women when they get too serious about him.”
“Then he’s perfect for me. I have no intention of getting serious.”
Genny shook her head at her. “That’s what all the women say.”
“Well, I mean it.” Bliss watched as Shade stood, blending into the crowd and leaving the auditorium. Jo’s eyes followed after him. “Besides, I can’t give what’s already taken.”
Bliss started past her yet paused when Genny laid a hand on her arm.
“You have an itch any man could scratch without leaving marks. Drake’s not that type of man. Of all the women I heard gossip about regarding him, none have walked away unscathed. He’s always been the one to break it off. Some scratches go away after a few days, and you forget they ever existed, but others fester and spread until they consume you.”
“Are you telling me I should be afraid of him?” Bliss couldn’t believe Genny was giving her advice about men. Didn’t she realize what went on in the clubhouse? What did she know about men, anyway? She was barely nineteen.
Willa had told her Genny had lived with a foster couple until she had turned eighteen. Willa had wanted to help Genny find a home she could call her own. Bliss knew that was why she had asked her if she would be interested in being roommates with Genny.
Bliss had thought they were mismatched but grudgingly had begun to feel a tendril of liking for Genny.
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. A smart woman would steer clear of him.”
“No one’s ever accused me of being smart,” Bliss said wryly.
was born in a small town in Kentucky. My family began poor, but worked their
way to owning a restaurant. My mother was one of the best cooks I have ever
known, and she instilled in all her children the value of hard work, and
after my mother, I’ve always love to cook, and became pretty good if I do say
so myself. I love to experiment and my unfortunate family has suffered through
many. They now have learned to steer clear of those dishes. I absolutely love
the holidays and my family puts up with my zany decorations.
now, my days are spent writing, writing, and writing. I have two children who
both graduated this year from college. My daughter does my book covers, and my
son just tries not to blush when someone asks him about my books.
I am writing five series of books- The Last Riders, The VIP Room, Predators MC,
Biker Bitches, and The Dark Souls.
my books are written for one purpose- the enjoyment others find in them, and
the expectations of my fans that inspire me to give it my best.”