Release Blitz: My Dark Knight by K.A. Merikan

My Dark Knight
(Kings of Hell MC #2)
Cover Design: Natasha Snow
Genre: M/M, Dark, Paranormal, Romance
Blurb
Love or hate. Life or death. No inbetween. No compromise. No rules in love and war.
Knight. Party monster. Handsome Savage. Doesn’t do monogamy.
Elliot. Obsessive. Intense. Uncompromising.



Newly single, Knight is done with relationships. All he’s interested in is bringing down The Count, an Internet personality who is tarnishing his family name. An opportunity to crush him comes when the audacious clown shows up at the Kings of Hell MC clubhouse to film for his YouTube channel. But when Knight meets Elliot, the man behind The Count, he no longer knows what to do with him.



Knight has never seen a more pathetic creature than Elliot. He’s also never met anyone who needed him more. Skinny, messed up, and a bucket of trouble as thick as tar, everything Elliot does seems to be a wordless death wish. No matter how much Knight hates Elliot’s alter ego, under the makeup and theatrics hides a fragile young guy with a passion for history, and Knight can’t help but catch Elliot every time he falls.



Elliot has bad taste in men. Always hopelessly attracted to violent brutes, his favorite is a long dead serial killer. But he gets more than he’s bargained for when he seizes an opportunity to meet the man of his dreams. The ghost is manipulative and dangerous, offering Elliot all he’s always wanted, for a price he can’t possibly pay.

Elliot is faced with an impossible choice between two men.

One alive, one dead.

One carnal and honest, one drizzling sweet, poisoned promises into his ear.

One unwilling to commit, the other promising an eternity together.

And Elliot doesn’t settle for half-measures. He craves a love that is all or nothing, passion that will consume him, and desire to burn him alive.



Elliot is ready to either get that, or die trying.



POSSIBLE SPOILERS:

Themes: enemies to lovers, protector, cruelty, motorcycle club, alternative lifestyles, demons, tattoos, impossible choices, deception, crime, self-discovery, healing, black magic, gothic, commitment, ghosts, possession

Kindle Unlimited:
Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Author Bios:


K.A. Merikan are a team of writers who try not to suck at adulting, with some success. Always eager to explore the murky waters of the weird and wonderful, K.A. Merikan don’t follow fixed formulas and want each of their books to be a surprise for those who choose to hop on for the ride.



K.A. Merikan have a few sweeter M/M romances as well, but they specialize in the dark, dirty, and dangerous side of M/M, full of bikers, bad boys, mafiosi, and scorching hot romance.

FACEBOOK PROFILEK.A. MERIKAN’S TWITTER (RUN BY KAT)AGNES MERIKAN’S TWITTERK.A. MERIKAN ON GOODREADSPINTERESTM/F ROMANCE BY MISS MERIKAN

 

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Release Blitz: Stolen Wishes by Jennifer Blackstream

Stolen Wish
(The Blood Realm Series #5)
Genre: M/F, Historical Romance
Synopsis:
PRIDE MAKES HIM BOLD ENOUGH TO COVET HER
Ali is a notorious thief, skilled enough to steal whatever his heart desires—except what it desires most. Anara. His fellow criminal would never let him get so close if she suspected he knew who she truly was. But a man can only resist temptation for so long…
PREJUDICE CANNOT HIDE PASSION FOREVER
Princess Anara is a tiger shifter obsessed with redeeming her race. With fierce determination, she’s stealing back the sacred objects of her people, the loss of which cost them the ability to safely convert their mates. Nothing and no one will stand in her way—not even a relentless thief who sees more than he should, and says more than she’s ready to hear…
DUTY AND LOVE BOTH DEMAND SACRIFICE
A dark sorcerer inadvertently gives Ali the leverage he needs to demand Anara’s hand in marriage. He’ll get the wife he’s coveted for so many years, and she will get the chance to finally explore the passion that she’s denied herself for too long. But even with a djinn’s magic at their fingertips, happiness is no guarantee. That which is easily gained is just as easily lost. If they want a future together, they’ll have to fight for it…
Buy Links:
         
Excerpt:
The cool night air stung her shame-warmed cheeks as she melted into the darkness and pulled the veil from her face. She wanted to stand there and take the time to center herself, let her heart calm to its normal beat, but she didn’t have that luxury. A thief who lingered at the scene of the crime risked losing her hand. Or worse.
With shaking hands, she took up the handles of the cart she’d left against the support wall of Malik’s home, hidden between two sprawling cypress trees. After one last deep breath to calm herself, she pushed the carpet-laden contraption out of the alley and down the road. The few merchants still out at this hour nodded to her as she passed, but no one paid her any mind. After thirty yards, her shoulders relaxed.
“Allow me to escort you.” 

Every nerve in her body tightened, shock stealing her voice. She gaped at Ali as he fell into step beside her, but managed not to trip over her own feet. No one snuck up on her. Certainly no human. Had she been that distracted? That careless? The snarl of warning she expected from her tiger never came. Instead, the beast watching Ali from inside her tilted its head with a strange interest. The thief had managed a perfect ambush and her beast was…impressed. 

Anara gritted her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of asking how he’d caught up to her. “No thank you.” 

“I insist.” He put a hand on his chest as if he would offer her a bow, then reconsidered. He fidgeted a moment, his lips twitching as if trying to smile, but failing. His shoulders slumped. “I upset you. I didn’t mean to, but I did. You must let me make it up to you.” 

“You are drawing attention to us. Go away.” She looked ahead, concentrating on her progress instead of the pleading tone in his voice. 

“Not as much attention as a beautiful woman walking home alone at night with a cart full of unsold wares. Really, you should have chosen a smaller inventory. People will think you’re a poor businesswoman.” 

Again he fidgeted, and this time Anara spared him a look. Ali wasn’t usually this restless. Her attention caught on a bulge under his caftan and she froze, anger seizing her spine. “Idiot,” she bit out. “You have no wish to escort me home. You only want to use me and my cart as cover for that obvious bulge in your clothes.” 

The grin that spread over his mouth then was equal parts amusement and mischievousness. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, suggestive. “It is a noticeable bulge, isn’t it?” 

Anara inhaled slowly, holding on to her temper only because making a scene would bring more scrutiny. “Please, go away. I haven’t planned this event with such care only to have a petty thief ruin it by traipsing after me and calling all manner of attention.” 

“I am no petty thief,” Ali corrected her. He swept into her path, forcing her to bring her cart to a halt as he gave her a wink from behind a curtain of black hair. “I am a prince of thieves.” 

She started to answer that boast with an appropriately scathing retort, but something about the way his attention kept falling to the lower half of her face distracted her. He’d been staring at her lips from the moment he’d stopped her. Why— 

Realization dawned. 

He’d never seen her mouth before. Until now, she’d always escaped the heist before he mounted a pursuit, plucking her treasure from its hiding place and vanishing before he’d made his haphazard selection. But this time he’d followed her. Worse, he’d caught her. 

Her lips tingled under his scrutiny. No man looked at her unveiled face. Certainly no man was permitted to gawk in such a blatantly…aroused way. Now that she’d noticed, she became painfully aware of the desire perfuming the air between them. She was used to that, used to the interest his body showed her even though he’d never spoken of his attraction in more than a few flirtatious words—light, playful banter. But as he stared at her, his arousal thickened, becoming more real than it had been inside. Or perhaps it only felt deeper because he was looking at her bare face. 

Again she waited for her beast to show some sign of anger at his audaciousness. He was little more than a pickpocket—and a human. His bold attention should have been an affront to her beast, an insult that he would put himself forth in such a way, dare to court a Caspian, the rarest of the tiger shifters, blessed with the gift of changing shape by the gods themselves.  

But once again, her tiger just stared. Watching. Studying. 

Considering.

The Blood Realm Series
Author Bio: 
 
Jennifer Blackstream is a USA Today bestselling author of fantasy/paranormal romance. Urban Fantasy will soon be joining her repertoire, and if she doesn’t get hold of the insidious roving gang of plot bunnies, there’s going to be steampunk sprinkled in there too…
To date, Jennifer has two series:
BLOOD PRINCE SERIES (COMPLETE):
Book 1 – Before Midnight
Book 2 – One Bite
Book 3 – Golden Stair
Book 4 – Divine Scales
Book 5 – Beautiful Salvation
Bonus Adventures in the Blood Prince World:
Book 2.5 – What Big Teeth You Have (free when you sign up for mailing list mentioned below)
Book 4.5 – The Pirate’s Witch
Book 5.5 – Dead to Begin With (available only between Thanksgiving and whenever Jennifer takes her Christmas tree down)
BLOOD REALM SERIES (IN PROGRESS SPIN-OFF OF BLOOD PRINCE SERIES):
Book 1 – All for a Rose
Book 2 – Blue Voodoo
Book 3 – The Archer
For news, new releases, and a free copy of What Big Teeth You Have, sign up for Jennifer’s mailing list.
Jennifer has unfailing affection for the authors who have influenced her, including Laurell K. Hamilton, Jim Butcher, and the sorely missed Sir Terry Pratchett. Her books include humor, romance, and action, with enough darkness to keep things very interesting.
When Jennifer isn’t writing, she can be found re-watching Boondock Saints, Noises Off, or Gross Pointe Blank. With one of those classics in the background, she might also be searching Amazon for something she wants, but doesn’t need (Is there any such thing as a kitchen gadget that isn’t an absolute necessity? And don’t even get me started on office supplies…).
  
         
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Release Blitz: The Wild by K. Webster


The Wild

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Taboo

Synopsis:

I brought them to the wilderness because we couldn’t cope with our reality.
The plan was to make a new life that didn’t include heartache.

No people. No technology. No interference.
Just us.
A chance to piece together what was broken.

But the wilderness is untamed and harsh.
Brutal and unforgiving.
It doesn’t give a damn about your feelings.

Tragedy lives there too.
No escaping the truths that won’t let you go.

All you can do is survive where love, no matter how beastly, is the only thing you can truly count on.

Confusing. Wrong. Twisted. Beautiful. Sick.

Love is wild.
And we’re going to set it free.

Warning:
The Wild is an extremely taboo story. Most will find that the themes in this book will make you incredibly uncomfortable. This book is only for the brave, the open-minded, and the ones who crave love in even the most dismal of situations. Extreme sexual themes and violence in certain scenes, which could trigger emotional distress, are found in this story. If you are sensitive to heavy taboo themes, then this story is not for you.

BANNED FROM AMAZON!
Live on Smashwords and paperback!

This book is apparently too wild for Amazon…question is, is it too wild for you? HA! This book DID break top 100 on it’s way out the door!! That is the first time that’s happened for me and I’m terribly excited!! 😀

Here is where you CAN buy The Wild:

Smashwords • Amazon PB

yes, that’s on Amazon because they make no sense banning the ebook and not the paperback)

 

Author Bio:

K Webster2

K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.

Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.

You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

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Release Blitz: Trashy Foreplay by Gemma James

 

Trashy Foreplay

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cover Designer: Gemma James

Synopsis:

Never flirt with temptation.
Never lust after what I can’t have.
And never, under any circumstances, screw a married man again.

By the time this story is told, I’ll have failed at all three…

With my heart and reputation in ruins, I can’t afford to make another mistake. Boarding a flight to Seattle is supposed to give me a clean slate, but from the moment Cash Montgomery slides into the seat next to mine, I’m captivated by his steel eyes that see too much. I ache for this stranger in a way I’ve never ached for anyone.

But I didn’t know he was married, and I sure as hell didn’t see the curveball fate had in store. My clean slate in Seattle isn’t so clean after all because my new boss is the man forbidden to me.

And the only man I want.

The only man I’ll do anything for, even if it means breaking the promise I made to myself when I fled my old life in shame.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for a married man, but I did.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Though the subject matter deals with cheating, there are no innocent parties here. Book 1 in the Trashy Affair series.

 

 

Gemma James is a USA Today and Amazon bestselling author of a blend of genres, from new adult suspense to dark erotic romance. She loves to explore the darker side of human nature in her fiction, and she’s morbidly curious about anything dark and edgy, from deviant sex to serial killers. Readers have described her stories as being “not for the faint of heart.”

She warns you to heed their words! Her playground isn’t full of rainbows and kittens, though she likes both. She lives in Oregon with her husband and their four children–three rambunctious UFC/wrestling-loving boys and one girl who steals everyone’s attention.

Release Blitz: Peep Show by Clare London

Peep Show
(London Lads #4)
Cover: Tibbs Design
Genre: M/M, Romance
Synopsis:
Ever wanted to spy secretly on other people’s lives?
Ken doesn’t have a choice: his student summer job is manning the CCTV screens for the new central London shopping mall. But instead of spotting criminals or vandals, he becomes fascinated by a cute waiter from the local bistro who sneaks out to the backyard for his break-and plays sexy to the camera.
Is he an old friend, or just an anonymous exhibitionist? Should Ken be excited by this naughty peepshow, or will people think he’s a voyeuristic pervert? Poor Ken’s confused and thrilled in turn. It’s like living in one of the movies heís studying at university. He knows the man canít see him, yet Ken feels a connection of some kind. It all encourages Ken to continue with his guilt-ridden Waiter Watch.
Ken bears the suspense as long as he can, until a chance meeting and an abortive blind date provide the explanation to the secret assignations. But will this guide Ken to a real-life chance of romance?
First Edition published by Amber Quill Press/Amber Allure, 2013.
Excerpt:

Ken had to admit he hated his job. With a passion. Or rather, with a slow-burning boredom and distaste. Passion implied some kind of energythe agony and the ecstasy!-and Ken had none of that left after another night sitting in the small, stuffy room and gazing at a wall of screens.

He leaned back in his hard-backed chair, stretched, and yawned. A glance at the clock confirmed it was a good hour until his official break time, when the steroid-enhanced Tomas would reluctantly pause in strutting his security patrol around the shopping centre, and arrive to cover Ken’s post while he went for coffee and a sandwich. Then another two hours until the end of the shift at 2:00 a.m., when old Charlie would shuffle in for duty, complete with his tatty Aran cardigan, his Maeve Binchy paperback, and an oversized thermos of homemade vegetable soup, to take over from Ken until the offices opened.

Ken sighed. What a way to spend a Saturday night-or any night, for that matter.

Over three hours to go.

Over three hours…

He yawned again. The screens flickered and settled into a range of views from another angle. There was a bank of them, covering critical points around the shopping centre, and they were manned 24/7. Ken was one of those “manning” people. He was meant to watch the screens closely at all times. The centre was a small one, in Surbiton on the outskirts of London, and couldn’t compete with the massive retail complexes built off the M25 in Essex or central London’s Oxford Street. It was really just a dozen shops hanging out together under the same roof. But these were high-fashion, prestigious-designer stores, full of valuable goods and constantly at threat from thieves, vandals, and general abusers. Or so Ken’s summer-job employers, Safeguard Assured, would have people believe.

Ken thought it wouldn’t be so bad if he actually saw something. Look out, it’s beHIND you! He knew it was ludicrous to wish for theft, destruction, or general abuse-whatever that covered-but he’d been working here for over a month now, and he’d seen nothing untoward. Nothing at all. No fights, no malicious damage to the shops or the building, no tanks ramming through the night-time shutters, no intercontinental ballistic missiles shrieking in from the dark night skies above-only twenty-four hours left to protect historic London!-to destroy everything the population held dear…

Okay, so his mind was rambling again. His mum always said he had a vivid imagination. He’d chosen well when he took a media and film studies course at Kingston University, because he’d always spent far too much time imagining book and movie quotes around real-life events. Of course, Mum’s respect wasn’t always matched by the rest of the family-Dad said Ken lived in a fantasy world, and his teenage brother, Joe, said he was just a sad bloke. Ken sighed again. He knew he was pretty safe here in the control room-except, of course, from the intercontinental ballistic missile scenario-because he wasn’t expected to leap into personal action if he saw any crime taking place. There’d never been any training session for that, just a brief run-through of the screens and the logging in and out procedures, and a schedule of the night-time shifts. He’d been given a list of contact numbers if he needed help. From the way his boss had wrinkled his nose at that, Ken knew it wouldn’t be welcome if he called up his boss at a quarter to midnight to ask where the milk was for his tea. I’m sorry, caller, there’s no record of that number... No, the contact numbers were for the duty security guards like Tomas, and also an emergency number to the local police station. That was if something went seriously wrong.

Which it never did.

No, of course he wasn’t inviting that missile again. But Ken hadn’t seen any action so far except people coming and going at the takeaways and late-night restaurants, which stayed open until the early hours of the morning. He swung aimlessly back and forth on his chair and opened another packet of cheesy snacks. He could feel the coating sticking to his teeth, but at least chewing it off helped to keep him awake. The Lord of the Rings paperback-three books in one, special offer!-had been last week’s additional incentive, but the boxed set of assorted crime thrillers he’d borrowed from Mum this week-murder, intrigue, and suspense from some of Britain’s finest!-hadn’t worked as effectively. Screen-watchers weren’t meant to spend their time with their head in a book-how would they see the incoming missile?-but it was about the only way to keep the boredom at bay.

You should knit,” his mate Simon had suggested. Simon knitted, but not lumpy long scarves or hideously misshapen Christmas gloves like Ken’s gran. Si created cool beanie hats and cotton gilets and wonderful album cover designs on sweaters. He was studying textile design at the same university, with fellow students far more arty than Ken’s peers, judging by their clothing and the bold interior design of their rooms. Ken had tried knitting a hat once-you shouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it, right?-and Mum was still using it as a tea cosy. She said the gaps down the side gave the steam somewhere to go. Ken hadn’t battled with knitting needles again-he was happier with a storyboard. Yet where had his first year of film studies taken him? Watching rain fall on the concrete pavement outside a shopping centre for hours at a time. There was irony there, somewhere.

He’d tried plenty of things to help pass the time. He played solitaire until he found himself almost homicidal when a three of clubs refused to reveal itself. The book of crosswords had been abandoned at page nine, after he’d expressed his frustration by inserting every obscene word he could think of, whether they fit the grid or not. And his songwriting attempts had never got any further than I woke up this morning before he started salivating for bacon sandwiches and brown sauce. He’d tried sketching out a storyboard for a film project of his own but, unfortunately, Charlie had caught sight of it one night, and now he kept suggesting Ken should remake a couple of Maeve Binchy’s classic stories. Charlie even suggested casting and the songs for the soundtrack. Much as he liked the old codger, Ken now found it less teeth-grinding to keep that work for the privacy of his own room. So he was back to nothing but the screens for distraction.

There was a small yard at the back of one of the restaurants where the waiters came out to smoke. It was plumb in the middle of Ken’s central screen. This one was a French bistro, which meant the prices were too high for his student pocket. Spare a coin for a sandwich, sir? He didn’t have sound as well as a view, but he watched the way the waiting staff nodded to each other, laughed, shared matches for the ciggies. There wasn’t much space to move around in the yard, because the wall between the restaurant and the next-door dry cleaners was covered almost entirely with huge, shoulder-high recycling and waste bins. The waiters leaned against the bins or scuffed their shoes on them. Sometimes the chef opened the door from the restaurant and yelled at them to get their arses back to work. Well, Ken couldn’t actually hear the words, but the chef’s face looked flushed and impatient-even in grainy black-and-white-and Ken’s imagination supplied the language. Although the waiters rolled their eyes and mimicked his gestures as soon as he turned his back, they usually stubbed out the cigarettes quickly and shuffled back indoors.

Sometimes Ken saw them leaving at the end of their shift from a gate at the farthest point of the yard. It was a shortcut back to the housing estate across the ring road. He had to imagine the gate, because it was out of view of the camera, but the waiters would tumble out of the back door with their coats on and backpacks slung over their shoulders, waving and joking with the new shift who were taking over. The place did breakfasts too. Didn’t it ever close?

He’d noticed a group of friends who seemed to work and travel everywhere together-a cluster of students like him, presumably, all dressed in similar hoodies and jeans; two men who were obviously a romantic couple; a mother and daughter who still had a smile for each other after a long night in the kitchen. Ken grimaced. So it had come to this-he was getting familiar with the monochrome faces of people he’d never meet in real life, probably didn’t want to meet, and who probably wouldn’t want to meet him. He didn’t think of them as friends, did he? That’s what his other good mate Robbie said when Ken shared some of his stories at the pub. “You’re not mates with these people, Kenny. That’d be bloody weird.” Everyone around the table agreed with Robbie. In fact, Ken laughed and agreed too.

Because that’s not how it was. He preferred to consider the people caught on CCTV as his own private soap opera. Previously, on the Surbiton Spectrum Shopping Centre Security Channel... The waiters at the restaurant. The foxes that came sniffing around the bins, arrogantly careless of anyone else. The police cars that periodically cruised the front of the centre. The fat man who ran the all-night grocer/newsagents, who took a break every now and then, drained a bottle of cola, and had a thorough scratch of his crotch through trousers shiny with wear. The young couple who stocked up the Moroccan café at weekends and who loitered in the service road behind the shop for a snogging session. The boy would have taken it further; Ken could see his eagerness-and bloody quick hands-but the girl was always looking over her shoulder in case someone caught them.

Yes, even outside shopping hours, there was a lot of activity in and around the centre. It wasn’t really what Ken was employed to watch out for, but he reckoned he could weave it into his film projects; he could let it inspire him. Everyone enjoyed people-watching, didn’t they? And his personal soap opera was benign. It wasn’t full of cliché gun battles or car chases. Only sometimes did he feel like a voyeur, but without the sexiness.

A waiter ambled out of the French bistro, and Ken’s attention darted back to that screen. The young man moved quickly-maybe he only had a few minutes break-and made for the far side of the yard. That corner was partially hidden by two of the largest bins and out of reach of the security lights. The only CCTV screen that covered it was one of the oldest and with the poorest picture. Sometimes one of the waiting staff would sneak behind these particular bins, and Ken assumed it was because they didn’t want to be seen, either by CCTV or from inside the restaurant. Was that what this man was doing? He had his back to Ken, hiding what he was up to. Was he smoking? Taking drugs? Ken had seen it on other evenings. Was he meant to report that kind of thing, or just crimes that involved damage to the centre itself? And how hypocritical would he be, when he’d smoked more than a few things in his time?

He peered more closely and wished there was a zoom feature. He didn’t like to touch the controls too much, since the time he’d fiddled with the brightness, messed up screens one to four, and spent three hours looking at static-I’m breaking up! I’m breaking up!-until Charlie arrived. The old man had shrugged at Ken’s apology, turned the control button to its fullest point, thumped somewhere under the desk, and the screens had all popped back into focus. Luckily, of course, the missile hadn’t arrived at that very time, though Ken rather thought there’d be other clues if the building were attacked from space.

The man in the yard turned his head, and Ken caught sight of his shadowed profile. He wasn’t smoking; he was sucking juice from a carton. A new employee? Ken didn’t think he’d noticed him before. Tall, lithe body in tight black trousers and a white shirt that stretched taut over his pecs, short-cropped dark hair, prominent but attractive nose. Ken couldn’t see his eyes because he was looking down at the carton, but the heavy lids were sexy. Even though the picture was blurred, Ken could tell that clearly enough. And the way the man’s lips tightened on the carton straw was… Be still, my beating heart. Ken laughed at himself a little bitterly. His poor old dick hadn’t hardened that quickly for a long time. He shifted on the seat, trying to get comfortable again. He really needed to get back out in the dating game again. Oh wait, first he had to find the time to date, didn’t he? But if and when he did, this was just the kind of look he’d always liked, ever since school days, however shallow Mum would say it was to judge a book by its cover alone…

And then the guy turned towards the camera so that one side of his face eased out of the shadows-and he winked.

Huh? Ken leaned forwards in his chair, startled, but the moment was gone. The waiter turned on his heel, threw his empty carton into the bin, and sauntered back inside the restaurant.

Author Bio


Clare took the pen name London from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with the weekly wash, waiting for the far distant day when she can afford to give up her day job as an accountant. She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic and sexy characters.

Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter 3 stage and plenty of other projects in mind . . . she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.

All the details and free fiction are available at her website. Visit her today and say hello!

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Release Blitz: Fall by Eden Butler

Fall
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Synopsis:
A secret smile.
A haunting kiss.
 
Life – Interrupted.
 
Keilen Rivers was the best Lily Campbell never had. He was the promise she didn’t let herself keep. After all, nothing in life seems meant to last, and love is no exception.
 
When Lily’s life takes an unexpected and tragic turn, she leaves behind both her island home and the boy she could have loved to protect the only family she has left.
 
But sometimes life takes without giving. Sometimes you cannot bend, only break. And when her career spirals out of her control, Lily can only watch as everything she worked for falls to ruin.
 
But some lies are hard to come back from. And some promises are made to be broken. Sometimes going home again is the only thing that can save you. But first you have to break. First you have to fall.

“See, there you go calling me pet names and I still don’t have one for you. Unless you change your mind about buggah…

“No,” he said, sliding his fingers into her damp hair. “I rather you say to me, na’u `oe so I can say it back.”

“What does that mean?”

He hesitated, only for a moment, the smile lighting up his face lowered, as though unsure if he should tell Lily the truth. She held her breath when he moved his thumb across her lower lip and then Keilen nodded, decision apparently made. “It means ‘you’re mine.’”

“That…” Her breath shuddered then, and she shook against him. “That’s what you want me to say?”

“That’s what I want you to mean.”

The kiss, when it came, reminded Lily of the first one he’d given her, all those years ago on Tommy’s dance floor. There was no Kiki there to force her to say stupid, inappropriate things. There was no Kona smiling like he knew what Keilen wanted to do to Lily once they left the bar. There was only the press of Keilen’s naked chest against her and the warm, smooth glide of his fingers on her back, pulling her close, sinking into the sandy ocean as he lowered his head and moved his mouth to hers.

She had meant it, that ‘your mine’ promise a thousand times in her dreams. She’d spoken it proudly to him anytime he moved through the hallways and half glanced at, half ignored her. She’d wanted to say it a million times before that night on the beach, but had never had him close enough; had never believed he’d want to hear anything similar from her.

But there she stood, under the rich moonlight, letting Keilen Rivers steal her breath, ravage her mouth like a predator she warmly welcomed. She’d say it a thousand times just to keep him close. She’d say it a million more because it was true.

“Keilen?” she said, holding his head still when he didn’t seem able to break away from her kiss. He grunted low, the only response he gave her. “I mean it.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, Keilen stared down at her a little breathless, stretching his neck so that Lily saw the steady quickening of his pulse as he watched her. A look, it seemed and a small confession, could shift this man’s world and leave him dumbfounded. It was a power Lily would have never believed she could wield. But there she was, holding him, that perfect fantasy, between her trembling fingers, living in a daydream on that dark autumn night, meaning the things she’d spoken with a bravery she never really had.

And he believed her. Maybe she believed it too.

Eden Butler is an editor and writer of Mystery, Suspense and Contemporary Romance novels and the nine-times great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and rum. 
When she’s not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrowesque ancestor, Eden patiently waits for her Hogwarts letter, edits, reads and spends way too much time watching rugby, Doctor Who and New Orleans Saints football. 

She is currently living under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana. 

Please send help.

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Release Day Launch: One Fear by Belle Brooks

One Fear
(The Game of Life Series #1)
Genre: Psychological Suspense Romance
“My one fear is now my reality.”
 
He didn’t offer his name when he fulfilled his need to include me as a player in his game.
 
I’m number thirteen. Just a number given to the bitches who wronged him.
 
I was blindsided. Stolen from my life. In his devilled eyes, I have a debt to pay…he wants my final breath to see us even.
 
“I know who you are Morgan Banks, the question is, who am I? Five games will set you free when you can tell me who I’d be.”- The Wolf. 
 
Am I strong enough to take on the Wolf?
United Indie Book Blog – “I’ve read several of Belle Brooks novels, I knew going into One Fear it would be unlike the rest. It keeps your heart pounding and your head guessing.”
Between the Bookends – “It was fantastically well written and perfectly paced. It was dark, twisted and evil. It had an intriguing and unique plot. It had angst. It had drama.”
Author Maggie Schuler – “Belle Brooks is a talented author who continues to change the dynamics of her writing and style in order to get those characters out of her mind and onto the pages.”


 

 

 Born in Australia, Belle Brooks has always had a passion for books and creative writing. She loves exploring the different ways stories can be told through the use of text and in-depth characters. Since she was a child her strong talent and interest in creative writing was evident, explaining that her favourite class in school was English. Despite her love for all things books, she decided the world of advertising and marketing was where she could put her talents to use in the business realm, well that is until now. Belle enjoys creative writing and creating fictional stories that leave a valued message inside the pages.
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