Monday, August 28, 2017

RELEASE BLITZ - SHOW ME YOURS BY SASHA BURKE




Title: Show Me Yours
Author: Sasha Burke
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 28, 2017



Blurb

The woman’s killing me.

I’m not the kind of man who would normally even consider blurring the lines between landlord and tenant or boss and employee, but Summer is a walking temptation. Neurotic and obsessive-as-hell when it comes to work details, sure, but a damn cute-without-knowing-it temptation nevertheless.

She’s been a good tenant and an even better worker. Plus, she doesn’t simper or throw herself at me like a lot of women who find out my net worth. I’ve grown...fond of her, oddly enough.

But if she drags my ass out of bed in the middle of the night to talk about work one more time…

* * *

The man’s a saint.

Not only did Jason hire me for the greatest project I’ve ever run point on, but he also let me move into an amazing loft in his building as an extravagant job-relocation perk. Sure, he can be a grouch when I accidentally wake him up to go over the project, but he’s still a saint nevertheless.

He’s been a fantastic boss and a surprisingly protective landlord. But…when did his shoulders get that wide? And why is that growling voice of his making me all weak in the knees lately?

And is it still considered morning wood if it happens in the middle of the night…or something more?







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Author Bio

Sasha Burke has been reading romances ever since she discovered her local library would let her borrow whatever kind of books she wanted…probably far younger than she should’ve started.

Possessive and protective alpha heroes have long been Sasha’s biggest weakness. Reading and writing about them, especially when there’s a feisty heroine involved, has resulted in her staying up many a night over the years.

You’ll usually find Sasha out and about spoiling her many dogs, or trying to perfect the world’s greatest mac & cheese recipe (and tirelessly taste-testing practice runs in that pursuit), or hosting outdoor fajita nights for her friends as often as she can.

To get alerts on her new releases along with surprise bonus content and other goodies throughout the year, join her Email List: http://eepurl.com/cYJpUr


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RELEASE BLITZ - BLOOD STAINED TRANQUILITY BY N. ISABELLE BLANCO




Title: Blood Stained Tranquility
Series: Ryze #2
Author: N. Isabelle Blanco
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Erotica
Release Date: August 28, 2017



Blurb

Evesse 

Five weeks ago, my best friend was abducted. A sacrifice for the God of Lust.
It wasn’t the beginning of her end . . . it turned out to be the beginning of mine.
I’ve been brought back from the dead.
Only to be condemned to die once more.
I’ve awakened to find myself mated to Zeniel, the God of Tranquility. But, no. That isn’t who he is anymore.
I’m so vile that simply meeting me tore out the most primal, dark force inside him.
He’s a demon.
A mythical monster.
An indiscriminate killer.
He’s made to destroy the entire fucking world . . . and I’d give anything to have him. 

Zeniel 

Within the red and black shadows of doom, all I see are my victims. The sinners I need to destroy.
And her.
Always her.
I want to despise her for what her past did to me. A single look into her eyes and the creature trapped inside me broke free.
You see, I’m a fucking sham. A pretender. I wasn’t born as Zeniel, God of Tranquility.
I was born as Mavrak, the war demon God of Vengeance.
He killed millions across the dimensions once.
To avenge and protect her, he’ll destroy millions once again.
For her, I’ll let my powers of Tranquility die in a maelstrom of blood . . .
Even if it means killing everyone else that I love.  




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Author Bio


N. Isabelle Blanco is the Amazon Bestselling Author of the Allure Series, the Need Series with K.I. Lynn, and many others. At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.

That is, until coffee came a long and took over everything else.

Nowadays, N. spends most of her days surviving the crazy New York rush and arguing with her characters every ten minutes or so, all in the hopes of one day getting them under control.


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NEWSLETTER 

BLOG TOUR - RACE TO THE GALLOWS BY JENNY BULLINGTON


Title: Race to the Gallows
Series: Mavericks of the Heartland #1
Author: Jenny Bullington
Genre: Adult, Historical Mafia Romance
Published: August 24, 2017
Jack and Ruby Walsh thought their sleepy town's Independence Day would be like all the others. That is, until an accidental explosion of fireworks destroys downtown Cherokee, Iowa. A witch-hunt ensues as WWII tensions rise, causing everyone to blame one immigrant German family for the fire. But was it really them? Only Jack and Ruby have the courage to fight for justice, even as they stand against the most corrupt in their community. Ignited by their white-hot passion for each other, the two stick together until they have Cherokee on its knees, rectifying its wrongs and uncovering a more sinister criminal network. RACE TO THE GALLOWS is a harrowing tale of love, loyalty, and courage. Based on true events in Northwest Iowa.

RACE TO THE GALLOWS Excerpt © Jenny Bullington 2017
Chapter Five
June Vogel
            June stood in their family kitchen and wrapped up the food she made for the luncheon after the memorial service. The children were getting changed in their rooms after their baths, and she still had to do Hannah’s hair. She could hear the boys in their rooms, conversing in English. Before, when they’d first come to Cherokee, her children had usually spoken in their German tongue, and that provided a sense of comfort for her. She didn’t want them to ever lose that gift from their family and their homeland. Yet now, after repeated bullying, they rarely spoke German unless they were around her and her husband.
Her ankles began to ache in her heeled shoes, and it brought her back to her present reality. She’d been standing by her counter, caught in thought again. The kitchen always seemed to be the one room that she occupied most as she both fed and kept vigil over her family, prayed and daydreamed for them above herself – only if there was spare time did she allow herself to utter prayers for her own heart. The memorial service would be difficult today, and while she ached for the hurting families, she always felt apprehensive when she had to venture in to town. How would it go today? Could she openly grieve the loss of a child in the community? And if she didn’t in a way that others expected, would that be held against her? Would she hear again how she and her family are Nazis?
Sighing, she took a deep breath to steady herself. Someday, she tried to convince herself, they will see that I am a good person no matter where I came from. June heard their collie, Jaeger, barking in the yard, and as she gazed out the window above the sink to the yard, she saw her husband, Karl, walking toward the house from the barn. 
“Hi, sweetheart,” Karl greeted as he opened up the front door of the farmhouse, the familiar squeaking of the hinges echoing in the kitchen. He drew his handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped the perspiration from his brow. He’d been hurrying through his chores on the farm so they could attend as a family.
June took a fresh glass out of the cabinet, filled it up with cool water for him, and walked over to Karl. He paused mid-step, his eyes flashing with admiration for the woman before him.
“You look lovely,” Karl complimented in German as he slowly took the water from June, smiling as he leaned in and kissed her cheek. 
“You smell awful,” June teased, but the happiness she tried to fake didn’t reach her own expression. Karl’s face fell when he saw that something was bothering her.
He touched her face gently then took her by the hand, feeling his callouses rubbing against her own as he led her to their kitchen table.
“Karl,” June began softly, “we have to go soon and you’re not ready.  You should bathe quickly.”
“No,” he stated simply. “What is the matter?” He slid a chair out for June to sit in. June tried to sigh her frustration, yet knew the way her husband worked: if something was bothering June, he wanted to discuss it right away. Meanwhile, she would be patiently annoyed at having to discuss the inner feelings she hid from everyone.
June shrugged and shook her head no, not wanting to divulge her feelings before they had to leave. She had to keep them stuffed down, hidden, locked away and not let them out lest she dissolve in tears as soon as the snide remarks and glares came their way. The wounds sometimes felt so deep, all because she was from a different country. Even some of the other residents in Cherokee had earlier generations come from Germany, yet none as recently as she.
“Tell me what’s bothering you,” Karl asked once more, the loaded question that she did not want to discuss. Despite this, his gentle blue eyes pleaded with her, begged her to open up as she’d been asked by him many times before.
Yet June couldn’t put into words the depths of her feelings. It was as if a well was sealed tightly inside her, deep in the Bavarian forest that was the free nature of her soul, containing all her dreams, longings and hopes. It was those places she chose to let herself in her mind wander; safe, warm, comfortable.
It also contained such darkness that shadows seemed as daylight compared to the monsters and demons that made the darkness their friends. It was there, in the darkness of her soul’s forest, that the well made its dwelling. Many times, June imagined the well was sealed tightly with chains, but somehow, they’d come loose from time to time. The burning red flames of memories would crawl out, chasing after her, even in the otherwise placid places of her soul’s forest. She’d run as fast as she could, but quickly her bare feet would become ensnared. Cracked, bruised and bleeding, she’d only allow herself to collapse under the oppression of the aggressive memories if she was alone. When the kids were napping or playing outside, or at night when everyone in her family was fast asleep. Only then could she allow herself to feel the weight of it all, the unceasing burden she carried.
Otherwise, on any normal day, she chose to keep the well locked. It sometimes beckoned for her to take a peek, but there was too much… too many emotions, too many memories that vividly played across her eyes like they were still going on right before her. 
Karl had met June back in primary school; their families were friends and fellow farmers in Kelheim. While they’d been the best of friends in school, it had been in secondary school when June had met an older man, someone who’d said the right things, who appeared religious and upright.  He seemed to be on the successful track in life and was part of the military’s young adults that seemed to be on the rise upward toward importance. That was the only reason her parents had allowed her to be courted by the man. 
Yet he was not what he appeared.
She’d been warned by a well-meaning friend from school who had heard things about him, things he’d done with other girls. June refused to listen, however. His time, his attention, his touch all allowed her to pretend everything was okay. Surely her parents would have stopped them had the hidden secrets been true?
But her friend was right. Everyone who’d expressed their concerns was right. She didn’t listen and she paid for it, nearly with her very life. June had wanted to believe that his words were true, that she had been special. He’d said he loved her, and oh how badly she wanted to be loved.
Then his love began to hurt her. He robbed her of a precious part of her life, her virginity, something she had wanted to give in a sacred way to someone who cherished its value. Once he was done hurting her, he taunted her for her lack of performance, liking her to a Jew he’d hated so deeply, as he put back on his Nazi uniform. June laid there, bare, broken, and bleeding, and still he kept hurting her with his words.
This pain she carried every day, reminding her of what was stolen from her youth, what she could never get back. What she could never give to another – she came to Karl broken, used, tainted. Who she wanted to be and what she wanted to give to her future husband was instead given to someone who made her feel as though she was no more than a piece of refuse. 
June knew how lucky she was that Karl still wanted her, still loved her, and had two more children with her even after she had born a child, unwed. He was seen as the hero, and in many ways, he was. June would hear Karl praised for his valor in taking on a tainted woman with a child, and she said her thanks many times. She had no idea why he still loved her even though he wasn’t the first to her. Yet as grateful as she was, she wished she could have been seen for her own valor, her own bravery as she rose from the bed, bloodied, broken and raw. She stood, numb, and forced her legs to move to the wash room despite the pain, cleaned herself up and left. She was the one who bravely made her way home, keeping her composure until the warmth of her pillow on her bed enveloped her, holding her and soaking up her tears. 
It was June who still held her head high when the man accused her of taking advantage of him and lied about her integrity and character to everyone in the town. It was June who withstood the torrential rains of judgement as she brought her first born into the world out of wedlock. 
June’s quiet suffering and bravery to survive until she and Karl finally joined hands in matrimony was neglected, unobserved. Karl took the credit for saving her, and while she was indeed thankful for him, at the same time, she was the one who endured the most. 
She hadn’t cried since that day, until she and Karl moved to a new country and she found herself once again alone. Alone and, eerily similar to before when she was the outcast, hearing cruelty thrown her way. She’d found out how to be strong alone before, she’d have to find a way again. 
Karl and the children needed her to be strong. Therefore, June forced the well inside her soul shut, and sealed it up, walking away unburdened by the chains she had to bear, accustomed to their weight. 
Smiling once again, June put her hand on Karl’s face and stroked his cheek.
“I’m fine,” she said, almost convincing herself of her lie, and decided leave the children at home this time so they wouldn’t see her ridiculed and mistreated.

***
Jack Walsh
Jack tried to be careful with his dress pants before the funerals as he waded through the debris, looking for something, anything, that could show the Malones accusation against the Vogels was a lead worth pursuing. He doubted very much the Vogel boys had anything to do with the fires, yet it was his duty to investigate anyway.
“Walsh,” Paulie called from behind him. “What the hell do you think was going on with that guy on your block?”
Jack was thankful that he had convinced Ruby to wait for him in the coolness of the church rather than the heat of the sun. He could tell she was upset by something that day, and the stranger on his street didn’t help. He shook his head, disgruntled. He felt unnerved, and suspicious that his own home was being watched. He had made it his business to know everyone in the area he patrolled, making mental files for each resident should anything ever come to play in the future. He was always preparing for an investigation on anyone, at any time, so the unfamiliar face refused to leave his mind. He had a wife he loved more than himself, and a baby on the way. Should that man have gotten the notion to dig through the home and Ruby was home alone…
Jack stopped where he stood and shook his head more vehemently this time.  “I’m not sure, but he doesn’t know who he’s messing with,” Jack finally replied to Paulie, meaning every word he spoke. He felt his protectiveness over his own home turf send a surge down to his stomach and a tingling began in his fingers.
“Hey, you know I will be over as fast as I can if you ever need it,” Paulie stated simply, shading his eyes from the sun.   
Jack smiled and nodded. He did indeed know Paulie would always be there. “It’s probably nothing,” he said more for Paulie than himself, “there are a lot of extra people in town today for the memorial service and to see Main Street for themselves.”
Paulie lifted his eyebrows at Jack’s statement. “Right,” he feigned agreement.
Jack smirked at his partner. He liked that they knew each other as well as they did. He looked down at his watch and saw that it was nearly time for the service to begin.
“It’s hotter than hades out, Goldstein.  I want you to find out where that locket came from and see if we can track down its owner.  Start with the jeweler, see if he remembers it.  Ask Mr. Beatty to see if anyone ordered it from one of his catalogs, too.”
Paulie pulled his notebook out of his front shirt pocket and wrote notes down with his pencil. “Consider it done,” he said as he deliberately flipped it shut and put it back in its place.
Jack looked around the debris, the piles of rubble familiar to him now, and he huffed in exasperation. He’d need to refresh his eyes. “Let’s come back after the funerals.  One more look.” Jack said as he turned to leave the disaster site, hearing the crunch of debris underneath his black leather shoes. He made a mental note to be sure to wipe off the bottoms of his shoes before entering his father-in-law’s church.
He had been so engrossed in watching where he stepped in his church clothes that when he finally looked up, he was shocked to see a couple men in suits and one with a camera by his car.
Jack looked back at Paulie, who’d been following closely behind him, and whispered, “What is this?”
“Sheriff Walsh!” one of the men shouted, seeing he’d been noticed. “Ryan Josephs with the Daily Journal!  I have a few questions for you!” Jack heard Paulie chortle behind him, and slap his shoulder as the reporter named Ryan nearly ran to approach Jack.
“You’re a celebrity now, Walsh,” Paulie taunted under his breath so only Jack could hear. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”
“Oh, hell no,” Jack called after his partner. “You can take this one!”
Jack watched Paulie laugh as he kept walking away from the clamor. He was still laughing at Jack’s plight even as he opened the car door and got in.
“Sheriff Walsh, how can Cherokee recover from such a disaster in your opinion?” the reporter, Ryan Josephs, asked.
Jack heard the question, but as the group of reporters started to circle around him, his mind began to wander to a time that was distant, yet one he was never able to forget.
He was standing in body with the reporters on Main Street, but his mind went back to his boyhood, sitting on the front step of his family’s run-down house with a wooden, wrap-around front porch with chipped paint. There were two cop cars out front; they’d been there a while after a neighbor intervened in the feud finally, and a throng of people had gathered to watch the scene playing out before them. 
It was no secret the Walsh family had their problems. With barely enough food to feed their large brood, Jack’s father had gambled the rest of their meager income away. As if that wasn’t enough to make them a spectacle, Jack’s father also had a problem with the bottle and the fist, and it was usually directed toward his mother. 
The oldest of Walsh kids, Jack would rush his siblings to the back bedrooms when his father would ramp up to an outburst. He’d stand in the kitchen, or the hallway just outside the kitchen, bottle that he’d just polished off in hand, and he’d start yelling. Life had dealt his father an unfair hand, Jack would hear him shouting. Life never worked out for him. Only later did Jack realize that all of it was his father’s own doing. He’d made the family lose everything, and yet Jack’s mother stuck with him, tried to fix things. 
Yet this time, there was no fixing. This time, there was no more forgiveness, let alone going home. His father had beat his mother so badly this time, she was carried out by the cops and firemen, headed in the back of the ambulance to the hospital. 
Jack sat on that step, watching them leave with her, and he had this sinking feeling in his stomach that something was horribly wrong. His mother didn’t look right, and he’d never seen his father in handcuffs before. Indeed, nothing would ever be right again.
His mother never recovered from her injuries, and spent the rest of her days as an invalid in the hospital. His father had been jailed for the abuse, and Jack and his siblings all had to go live with his paternal grandparents. 
But the boy on the step that day felt a break so deep he didn’t understand until much later the pain of that wound.  He began to weep openly, as any boy who loved his mother would, watching her leave on a stretcher, watching the cops gather up the younger children and their belongings in suitcases, watching the crowd cover their open mouths and aghast eyes. Then a reporter had the audacity to come up to him, trying to get the details of what happened.  
Jack saw it all, and to this day had never spoken of the time that his mother turned from a living being to being trapped in a body that didn’t house her soul anymore. That little boy would never sit on that wooden front step again, not until many years later when Jack and his siblings came back to burn the house and all its horrid memories to the ground.
That boy grew up helping his elderly grandparents raise his siblings, and under their tender care, he grew into the leader he was today. The sense of duty and justice was instilled in him, and he fought for it from even a young age. 
One cop, a father of one of Jack’s classmates, shooed the reporter away and sat down next to him on the step. Jack heard later that his dirty face had the marks from where the tears streamed down his face. When the cop put his arm around Jack, he buried his head in the cop’s chest and felt consoled compassionately by a grown man for the first time ever in his life.
Never again, Jack had promised himself.  Never again…
“Sheriff Walsh?” Ryan Josephs repeated, looking perplexed. 
Jack woke from his reverie and to his embarrassment, realized he’d been standing in front of the reporters, lost in the fog of his own memories. 
“I’m sorry, could you repeat your question?” Jack replied to the reporter named Ryan, though he looked at everyone standing around him seeing the same confused face looking back at him.
“Uh, sure.”  Ryan cleared his throat.  “Do you believe you’ve put the right people in jail?”
Jack’s heart jolted. “What did you say?  I’ve made no arrests in this investigation as of yet.”
“Oh, just this morning two suspects were arrested and jailed,” Ryan stated, scribbling down notes in his small, leather-bound notebook.
Jack’s face flushed hot.  He was the lead on this investigation, and there was literally no evidence that gave a clear lead on anyone being the guilty party.  There hadn’t even been any other investigative parties involved.
Except for the Malones, Jack’s memory reminded him, and he gave the reporters a dark look before bolting toward the car where Paulie sat. 
Glancing up in alarm as he saw Jack coming, Paulie asked, “What’s going on?”  His hands popped up and gripped the steering wheel, knuckles suddenly white.
“Get down to the jail!” Jack demanded, running around to the side and throwing his body into the passenger side of the car.  He shut his door just as Paulie backed out onto the street once more and headed away from the fire scene. 
“Walsh?” Paulie reminded his partner of his earlier question.
“Someone’s been thrown into our jail without notifying or partnering with us,” Jack took his hat off and nearly threw it down onto the floor by his feet before thinking better of it.  “Has anyone contacted the station?” Jack’s voice rose along with his stress and anger.
“No,” Paulie quickly replied, coming only to a partial stop at a crossing before charging forward.
“Damn it!” Jack exclaimed indignantly, slamming his fist on the car door, having a keen sense of who had taken over his investigation.
“What about Ruby?” Paulie questioned, glancing at his partner. “She’d be with the Vogels at the memorial service.”
Jack raised his hands in the air as he leaned his head back, seeming to look up at the sky. “You’re right. She’d be right by them, and if anything happens…”
Paulie brought the car to a stop. “Go, Jack. I’ll see what happened at the jail.”
Jack put his hat under his arm and, once out of the car, began running toward the church.
Ever since she was a little girl on a farm in rural Iowa, Jenny Bullington's heart has been filled with wanderlust and adventure. She started writing at an early age, and has never stopped. After exploring Italy, Ethiopia, and South Korea, Bullington's desire to transport others to those places and to raise awareness of important humanitarian and social issues takes hold in her writings.

She received her Bachelor's Degree from Iowa State University and her Master's Degree from Pacific Oaks College. In her spare time, Bullington enjoys teaching as an adjunct college professor, writes parenting and child development columns for a taekwondo kids program, advocates against domestic violence and human trafficking, and is passionate about social justice. She's recently been featured as a storyteller at Ode, an Iowa organization that promotes positive impact through empathy. Her adventures never stop as she raises her five small children with her beloved husband, Branden, in the Midwest.
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RELEASE BLITZ - RENEGADE BY BRYNLEY BLAKE




Title: Renegade
Series: Phoenix Rising #2
Author: Brynley Blake
Publisher: Entangled Publishing
Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 28, 2017



Blurb

Gemma Ward, an outgoing and strong-willed wedding photographer, goes through men like she goes through thongs, forever looking for a guy who can handle her.  She’s about given up on love when she meets Declan, the sophisticated father of one of her clients.  He’s perfect for her, if only she can convince him she’s not too young and inexperienced to meet his singularly erotic tastes.

Then, like an answered prayer, Walker Kincaid shows up, looking for a place to stay while he investigates allegations surrounding the death of his SEAL brother, Liam Prescott. If anyone can tutor her in the art of the kind of power play Declan wants, it’s Walker, her best friend and partner in crime since high school.

But what starts as friendly lessons in forbidden pleasure soon turns into something more…leaving Gemma to wonder if the lover she’s been looking for has been right in front of her all along.  







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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU





Excerpt

I linger at my bedroom door, suddenly nervous for some reason. It’s Walker, I remind myself. Taking a deep breath, I saunter out into the living room. Walker doesn’t notice me at first. His laptop is open, and he’s studying something intently, his brow furrowed with concentration. Then he looks up and our eyes meet, and suddenly the air feels like it does just before a summer thunderstorm—thick and silent and charged with electricity.

My heart stops as his gaze travels slowly over my body, and for a minute, I think he’s going to crack a joke, or say something about us having an early flight to catch or not having the right equipment, and I brace myself for the disappointment. But instead, he wordlessly pushes his chair back, gets up, and walks slowly over to where I’m standing.

“You just failed lesson number one.” His voice is deep and husky, and I suddenly find my stomach inexplicably fluttering.

“Oh?” My voice sounds ragged, and I take a deep breath, determined to sound like the confident, sexy badass that I am. Even if Walker is looking at me with a heat I’ve never seen before in those whiskey-colored eyes. “What lesson was that?”

He threads his fingers in my hair and tugs lightly, forcing my head back so I’m looking up at him. “The dominant is always in charge. That means I call the shots, and I decide when we start, not you. Although you do look pretty fucking amazing, so I’ll let it slide this time.”

“You’ll ‘let it slide’?” I say in mock outrage. I try to push him away with my hands on his chest, but he grabs them in his, and with one hand holding both of my wrists, he lifts them above my head and pins them to the wall. Holy fucking shit.

“This time,” he repeats, and for the first time, I can see why people react the way they do to him. Walker’s quietly authoritative tone is more intimidating than a hundred men raising their voices. “I can see this is going to be the challenge for you, Gemma.” His lips twitch, and humor sparks in his eyes. “You like to be in charge. You can’t let go, can you?”

“Yes, I can.”

He looks at me dubiously, eyebrows raised.

“I can!” I insist.

“Close your eyes.” His voice is soft, but it’s an unmistakable command.

“What?”

“Just do it. Don’t think. Don’t argue.”

I know a test when I hear one. I close my eyes, wondering what he’s going to do. Long seconds seem to tick by, and then his lips brush over mine ever so gently. They’re warm and soft and fuller than I would have expected. It’s quick, barely even a kiss, just his lips grazing over mine, but the butterflies are back, their wings beating furiously in my tummy, and there’s an inexplicable heat searing through my veins.
I open my eyes to find his face mere inches from mine, his eyes wide with the shock that I’m sure is reflected in mine. What the hell was that? Then he clears his throat, releases my wrists, and takes a step backward, and the moment is past.
“Okay. We’ll continue tomorrow.” He turns to go.

“Wait. That’s it?” That can’t be it.

Walker turns around slowly and gives me a long, hard look, and I wish I could tell what’s going through that mind of his. Finally, he says, “You want more?”

“Hell yes, I want more. I want the whole thing. The sooner the better. Before Declan comes back. I want to know as much as I can before I see him again, so I know what to expect.”

He takes a step closer. “The whole thing? Are you sure about this?” There’s a slight edge to his voice.

“Absolutely positive.” His intense gaze never leaves my face, and I’m suddenly just the tiniest bit nervous. “Um, what exactly is the whole thing?”






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Author Bio

A lifelong reader with a taste for adventure, Brynley Blake writes the writes the kind of books she likes to read: steamy contemporary romances featuring smart, sassy heroines with a sense of humor and strong, dominant alpha males who love their women a little feisty.  She loves rainy days, books, worn-in jeans, hot coffee, cold beer, red wine, exploring new places, and happily ever afters. When she’s not writing, you can usually find her cheering on her kids at their activities, hanging out with friends, or crossing things off her bucket list. She writes contemporary and erotic romance as Brynley Blake and Brynley Bush.


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BLOG TOUR - TABOO & DADDY (PENTHOUSE PLEASURES) BY OPLA CAREW, JAYNE RYLON AN AVERY ASTER



Title: Taboo & Daddy (Penthouse Pleasures) 
Author: Opal Carew, Jayne Rylon, Avery Aster 
Genre: Erotic Romance 
Release Date: August 22, 2017 





One luxury building holds six penthouse apartments owned by kinky Manhattanites. Their sizzling stories will be told throughout the Penthouse Pleasures series from New York Times bestselling authors Opal Carew, Jayne Rylon, and Avery Aster. From trailer trash to elite New York City lawyer, Casey Clark has transformed her life. There’s only one change she regrets. The one that left her blazing her trail alone. Her tough ex-boyfriend Jace West has made a career of protecting people in bad situations, just like he always did for her. When Casey finds something in her new penthouse apartment that could put her in danger, he’s the first one to volunteer to keep her body safe—even if it puts their hearts at risk again. Jace counts on his partner Ian to chaperone his alone time with Casey. Instead, it seems the guy balances out Jace’s rough edges with a suave sophistication Casey always craved. The combination has the potential to fill the void in her life that money, power, and ambition can’t…if she’s bold enough to take what she wants from each of them. Venturing into taboo territory, Casey could become the woman Jace has always needed. The kind who’s enough for not just one super sexy man, but two of them.







She’s an innocent young woman from his past whom he swears to protect. But the forbidden attraction between them threatens to override all reason. Bonus: This story includes a short erotic audio that will melt your panties! ~~~ Kent never dreamed he’d be picking up Christina from the police station in the middle of the night. He hasn’t seen her since she was sixteen, but she was sweet and innocent. When he gets there, he’s shocked to see that she’s a full grown woman… and very sexy. And she’s been arrested for soliciting. When she throws herself into his arms and calls him Daddy, then begs him to pretend he’s her stepfather, he plays along. But the echo of that whispered word in his ear… Daddy… sets his blood on fire. He’d love nothing more than to take a firm hand with her… in the bedroom. But that can never happen. ~~~ DADDY is the second book of the Penthouse Pleasures series. This is a sizzling story of a young woman and the sexy older man who captures her heart. Their story is wrought with emotion and conflict as they struggle through the difficult journey to happiness despite past pain and a taboo romance that should never happen. Warning: The hero is a sexy father figure who gets turned on when his "baby girl" calls him Daddy. And there’s a sexy neighbor who might just join in the fun. (Translation: MÊnage a trois!)











Daddy
Kent stepped out of the shower and dried off then tossed the towel over the hook. He opened the door and as soon as he stepped into his bedroom, he saw Christina standing at the top of the stairs. Her eyes widened, then her gaze fell right to where it shouldn’t be. “Christina, what the hell?” His heart pounded as he grabbed the throw from his bed and draped it around his waist. “I’m sorry.” Her face blossomed a deep rose. “I didn’t realize the stairway led right into your bedroom.” “All right. But why did you come up here?” “I…” Her gaze had moved from his now covered cock—which was rising to attention despite the awkwardness of the situation—and drifted up his bare chest and settled on his face. “I wanted to talk,” she said. She drew in deep breaths, which made him all too aware of her firm, round breasts under the thin cotton of her pullover pajama top, and wrung her hands together. He wasn’t sure if it was anxiety, embarrassment, or both. Concern swelled through him. “What is it? Is there something wrong?” “No… well, yes.” Protective instincts bubbled through him. What was so important that she would come looking for him in the middle of the night? “All right. Come in and we’ll talk." He walked to the couch and sat down and she walked further into the room. He was surprised when she sat down beside him instead of in one of the armchairs. His groin tightened even more. Fuck, he’d just taken a cold shower to calm down his body from his lascivious thoughts about her. Now with her so close, the sight of her in her pajamas—which were modest enough, but her nipples peaked to points under the light, cotton fabric of the top—made him want to jump under a stream of frigid water again. He should send her right back down those stairs. But if she needed to talk, he couldn’t turn her away. “I think we should talk about what happened earlier,” she said hesitantly. “When I told you that you were the only man I trust.” Fuck. “Nothing happened earlier.” “That’s not true. We had a moment.” Her green gaze caught on his. “We almost kissed.” She rested her hand on his arm and the softness of her skin on his made him all too aware of his nakedness. Of the intimacy of the situation. Of how easy it would be to take her into his arms and… He lurched to his feet, holding the blanket securely at his waist and paced. “I think you should go back to your room.” She stood up and walked toward him, determination in her emerald green eyes. “I’m attracted to you.” She rested her hand on his cheek and sparks flared across his skin. “Are you going to tell me you don’t feel the same for me?” His jaw clenched. “I’m old enough to be your father.” “I’ve never had a father in my life. I don’t know what that’s like. But with you, I’ve always felt safe and cared for. I’ve always felt protected.” She stepped closer and rested her hand flat on his chest, right over his heart, which started to pound faster. She pushed herself on her tiptoes and her lips brushed his ear. “And I like the feeling.” Fuck, his cock was aching with her so close. She nuzzled his neck, the light flutter of her lips on his skin sent his pulse racing. She cupped his face and found his mouth. Time stood still as the overwhelming sensations of her body against his, the delicate feel of her tongue nudging between his lips, made his body harden. His barriers crumbled and his arms glided around her. He pulled her tight, his mouth opening and he drove his tongue deep into her, tasting her sweetness. She sucked in a breath, then wrapped her arms tight around his neck as he plundered her mouth. His heart pounded as his cock swelled and he backed her up to the bed. Seconds later, she was on her back beneath him, her breasts crushed against his naked chest. His hand glided along her ribs, then he cupped one soft mound. At the feel of it in his hand, her nipple hard and thrusting upward, heat surged through him. She arched her lower body, pressing against his aching shaft. He tore his mouth from hers. “Fuck, what the hell am I doing?” The age thing was bad enough, but she was a virgin, for fuck’s sake. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and filled with need. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded. He pushed away and surged to his feet. “Christina, I want to protect you… not take your virginity.” She stood up and grasped his hand, her small fingers curling around his. “Please. You’re the only one I trust enough to do this with. You can help me past my fear of being with a man. I know you’ll be tender and loving—and won’t judge me or try to force me into anything more.” She gazed up at him. “And that’s what I need right now.” She moved closer and rested her hand on his chest. “I think you want to protect me like a father would.” She pushed herself up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his ear. “But you’re not my father. So you can do anything you want with me.” She took his hand and pressed it to her breast again. The softness of it unraveled his resolve. She leaned close to his ear again. “Daddy,” she murmured. “Ah, fuck.” Her hand slid to his waist and the coverlet fell to the floor. His cock sprang upward and she wrapped her hand around it. As her feminine fingers curled around his hard shaft, he sucked in a breath, his blood boiling. “I think you like me calling you Daddy.” She kissed his ear then nibbled his lobe, sending tingles racing along his spine. Like was too mild a word. It was electrifying. She squeezed his fingers around her breast as she ran her hand the length of his cock. When she began to stroke him, he knew he had to stop her. His groin tightened painfully and he was getting too fucking close too fucking fast. He grabbed her wrist, intent on pulling it away, but she nipped his ear, then arched her breast tighter into his hand. “Oh, Daddy. I love you touching me like this.” Fuck, he’d never been this wildly turned on in his life. His grip loosened and she stroked him faster. Without thinking, he walked her backward until she was against the wall. She released his cock long enough to pull her loose-fitting pajama top over her head, revealing her generous, round breasts. His breath caught at the sight of them. He claimed her lips, pressing his body tight to hers, excited by the feel of her soft, naked breasts crushed against his chest. As he claimed her with his passionate kiss, she squeezed his cock and stroked it. Moving faster and faster. He groaned into her mouth. She pulled away and gazed up at him. “Oh, Daddy, I want you so badly,” she whispered breathily. “Ah, fuck!” The raging ache in his groin spiked, then incredible heat burst through him. He groaned as pleasure surged through every part of him, and he erupted in a fountain of hot come. He was shocked at how much it turned him on when she called him Daddy. He’d just come and he was still hard, for God’s sake. He realized he was leaning against her, so he drew back, still panting. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, then lay down on it. She pushed down her pajama bottoms, exposing her sweet, naked pussy. God help him. “Please. Make love to me now. I want you to be my first.” He ran his fingers over the glistening white goo on her stomach. Smearing it over her creamy skin. Instead of answering, he glided to his knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He widened her legs and stared at her intimate folds. “You’re beautiful, baby girl. Do you like me calling you that?” “Oh, yes, Daddy.” Her voice quivered with need. He chuckled as he ran his fingertips over her, feeling the slickness of her arousal. “You’re so wet for me.” He opened her folds and stared at her opening, so soft and inviting. “You want me to push my big cock into your innocent little pussy?” “Yes.” She licked her lips, her eyes wide and full of desire. “Please.” He chuckled. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he’d soon be driving his cock into her untried passage. Because he’d gone past the point of saying no. She wanted this. And he certainly fucking wanted it. He stroked over her folds again, eliciting a soft moan. Then, watching her, he pressed his finger inside her. Gliding in past the first knuckle, then to the second. He pushed another finger inside, delighting at the tight grip of her around him. Her eyes glazed and the look of need on her face made him ache to drive inside her right now. But instead, he leaned forward and covered her pussy with his mouth. “Ohhh,” she moaned. He lapped at her folds until he found the little button inside. Then he teased it with the tip of his tongue. Her fingers glided through his hair and she pulled him tighter to her wet flesh. “That feels so good,” she murmured, a note of desperation coloring her voice. “You like that, baby girl?” he asked. “Mmm. Yes,” she breathed. He sucked on her clit and she gasped, then arched against him. He began moving his fingers inside her. Surging in and out as he suckled her sensitive button. She pivoted her hips up and down, as if riding his mouth and hand. He kept pulsing into her. His tongue quivered over her clit. “Oh, God…” She gasped. “Oh, it feels so…” Then she moaned, her body shuddering as the orgasm claimed her. He kept his fingers moving inside her, his tongue teasing, his gaze turned up to watch her beautiful face glowing with bliss. When she finally collapsed against the bed, he slowly drew his fingers from her tight canal and gave her one final lick, then lifted his head, smiling. She looked so wonderfully sated, he wondered if he should stop here. But she opened her arms to him. He prowled over her, then captured her lips. She drove her tongue inside his mouth and stroked with vigor. “Please, now, fill me with your big cock.” He stared into her wide green eyes. “Baby girl, are you really sure this is what you want?” “Oh, yes.” She pulled him closer and nuzzled his temple. “Please, Daddy. Fuck me now.” Goddamn. He couldn’t refuse her. Because he wanted this so fucking badly, too.

Jayne Rylon is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She received the 2011 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Indie Erotic Romance. Her stories used to begin as daydreams in seemingly endless business meetings, but now she is a full time author, who employs the skills she learned from her straight-laced corporate existence in the business of writing. She lives in Ohio with two cats and her husband, the infamous Mr. Rylon. When she can escape her purple office, she loves to travel the world, avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky, SCUBA dive, and–of course–read. http://jaynerylon.com 
  Opal Carew is the author of over a dozen romance stories in which she makes offerings of hope, success, and love to her readers. Opal loves crystals, dragons, feathers, cats, pink hair, the occult, Manga artwork, and all that glitters. She earned a degree in Mathematics from the University of Waterloo, and spent 15 years as a software analyst before turning to her passions as a writer. Opal lives with her husband and two teen-aged sons in Ontario, Canada http://www.opalcarew.com 
  Avery Aster: A graduate of New York University and a resident of the Big Apple for twenty years, New York Times bestselling author Avery Aster writes popular fiction in several genres. Erotic Romance fans enjoy Avery’s The Manhattanites books, while New Adult readers can’t get enough of the Undergrad Years. For those who like a good thrill that’ll mess with their mind, check out Avery’s Psychological Suspense series, Piper Adler and other books at www.AveryAster.com