Check out the promo event for the second book in Shane Morgan’s YA Fantasy trilogy.
Publisher: Azina Media Publications
Genre(s): Interracial Erotic Romance
Date of Publication: July 15th 2015
Tired of dealing with the sexist, dominant men at her corporate job, Samantha Wilde started her own company. After hearing some life-altering news, she literally bumps into a man who knows what he wants regardless of her situation and is willing to pursue her no matter the costs.
Joshua Kelly is a successful business man. He has Samantha in his sights for not only business, but pleasure! He makes her a business proposition that she tries to refuse, then he moves in for the kill with a relationship proposal. She is almost helpless to stay away from him, because he represents the type of dominant man that she wants to avoid but his touch is addictive. Maybe this kind of dominant isn’t so bad.
This story is about the realities of sexual encounters and how to move on from what you cannot change. Based loosely on a many true stories.
I whipped around and almost hit him with my head because he was so close. He was leaning over me to pay the barista for the drinks.
What the hell?
Here’s the thing, I’m 5’9 and I had on 3” heeled boots, so I’m a pretty tall lady. This guy was leaning over me, so he had to be around 6’5 or taller. When he stood up to his full height, I saw it was the guy from the elevator.
What the hell?
“Sir, what are you doing?” I was annoyed.
His eyes slid down to mine. “Treating a beautiful lady,” he smoothly responded.
“I didn’t ask for this,” I shook my head at the barista and went to hand her my card.
She looked confused, but went to grab my card. He snatched the card out of my hands and commanded, “I got this.”
Well, I’ll be.
At that point, the barista took his twenty dollar bill and deposited it in the register, gave him his change and asked, “Your name?”
“Joshua,” he replied.
I could play this one of a few ways, I thought as I stared at him with my mouth open.
Option 1: I could be a total bitch and tell him where he can go, how I can pay for my own coffee and how dare he have the nerve to try and bend me to his will.
Option 2: I could thank him politely, get my coffee and go home.
Option 3: I could smile and say thank you.
I couldn’t tell if he was good looking or not because I was now thoroughly pissed. He no longer had the scowl on his face, but a smirk. I felt like he walked over me and disregarded my wishes, but that didn’t mean I needed to act on that feeling. I didn’t want to make a scene at the Starbucks because I frequently came here as many of my clients were in this area. However, I did want to make it clear to him who he was dealing with. As I was preparing myself to go with Option 1, but a more civilized and modified version, he reached his hand up to my mouth and closed my lips with his thumb and index finger. Then he slipped my card back in my purse with his other hand.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Xyla Turner was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. She has always been a writer, even as a teenager, she wrote short stories and essays that won awards and nationwide competitions. Xyla is an avid reader of romance novels and a sucker for sassy females and dominant males. She is a lifelong learner, High School Vice-Principal and a pretty good Auntie. Outside of reading, Xyla likes to spend time with her family and friends, experiment with dangerous adventures and travel. She writes different genres, but her favorite is romance.
Xyla has her Bachelor’s degree in Education and Masters in Education Administration. She is also a web designer and a Life Coach. She will forever be an educator, innovator and entrepreneur.
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It’s release day for Kacey Vanderkarr’s new book, Stepping Stones! Check out an excerpt and go grab your copy now!
Stepping Stones (The Stone Series, Book 1)
Publisher – Urban Fey Press
Pages – 332
Genre – Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy
Onnaleigh Moore is part of a plan—and it isn’t hers. When her brother dies in a car accident, Onna is desperate to preserve the tatters of her family. Any hope of finding normalcy vanishes when her mother runs off and her dad turns to booze to numb his pain. Onna’s grief is crippling, but the boy who showed up just when she needed him is helping her cope.
Everett’s presence is comforting, though he knows things—Onna’s name just before they met, where she lives, and sometimes he comments on thoughts she doesn’t say aloud. She pegs him for a stalker, or maybe psychic, but the truth is deadlier than she imagines. As their feelings for one another deepen, Everett confesses a horrifying secret: Onna’s brother is only the beginning of the plan, and some fates are worse than death.
Ahead of them, the expressway snaked in each direction. When Caleb lived at home, he and Onna would walk to the overpass at night and watch the cars speed past. Their lights created ribbons of color and the steady roar of rubber against concrete rumbled through the bridge and into their feet.
Once, after Caleb left, she climbed onto the barrier and dangled her bare feet over the edge. She imagined the drivers beneath her in a panic because they thought she’d jump. She sat there for nearly an hour, waiting for someone to call the police or her parents, but no one did. Then she walked home, tears streaming her face, though she couldn’t decide if she was angrier Caleb left or that no one noticed her.
“How did your mother die?” Onna asked, glancing out the window. Sunlight glinted off vehicles and made the road shimmer with heat. A long time ago, Onna thought the mirage of water over the road was a portal to another dimension.
Onna nodded, not taking her eyes from the window. There weren’t words to fill a void like that. Instead, she cranked the handle and let early fall air caress her cheeks.
Everett slowed on the overpass and Onna leaned against the door. A shift in traffic below caught her attention. A semi swerved from the outer lane, moving in slow motion, as though the truck waded through sludge. Screaming airbrakes reached her ears as the semi careened into the median and flung itself into oncoming traffic.
“Oh my god,” she yelled, white knuckling the doorframe.
“What is it?” Everett said, steering the Mustang to the shoulder.
Vehicles dodged the impending collision, taking sharp angles and sliding onto the edge of the road. Onna watched near misses, horrified. Most of the traffic cleared the bullet speeding toward them, filling up the sides of the highway and hurtling into the grass like blood clotting in a vein. One remaining silver car had nowhere to go. It swung to the right and spun out of control. From this distance, Onna couldn’t see the driver’s face, but she searched the windshield anyway. In the space of a heartbeat, the truck demolished the silver car.
Metal shrieked as the car and semi became one, twisting around each other like lovers. The immediate silence was deafening.
Onna was out of the Mustang and tearing down the weed-infested hill before the car stopped. Pickers slashed at her calves. Her heels slipped on rocks. Everett yelled for her to come back. She ignored him.
Below her, people climbed from their vehicles. They approached the wreck like cautious animals, circling, scenting for danger.
By the time she reached the road, flames leapt from the debris, hungry yellow fingers that grabbed for smoking remains. Onna tasted gasoline and fear.
The Prius’s driver side disappeared inside the car, a crumpled twist of metal. Nothing remained of the windshield. The deflated passenger airbag hung over remnants of the hood.
Onna’s heart squeezed into her throat next to her stomach.
She propelled herself forward, breaking through a barrier of onlookers. A hand grabbed for her, catching her elbow before she shook it off. There were voices, a constant, babbling stream that she couldn’t separate into words.
Lots of people drive Priuses, she told herself.
It’s not Caleb.
Still, her hands shook as her feet found concrete. A slim white hand hung from the shattered window. There was blood. Onna smelled it before she saw it. Rivulets trickled from the ravaging teeth of the window, mapping out a path to the dangling hand with a huge sparkling engagement ring.
Onna’s heartbeat rushed in her ears, insistent, like the sound of an explosion underwater. She struggled to make sense of the tangled metal, pale skin, and blood. Then, red hair.
“Cora!” she screamed. Adrenaline surged into Onna’s arteries and she hurled herself into the wreckage, mindless of flames and the growing puddle of gasoline. Shouts rose around her. Warnings, pleas. She tried the door handle first, unsurprised when it didn’t budge.
Arms slid around her waist and pulled her backwards. “Stop.”
She struggled against Everett, kicking and punching. “Let me go! That’s Caleb. It’s Caleb.” Her words broke into sobs and she finally wriggled free. Her knees stung when she hit pavement and crawled toward Caleb’s car. This time, Everett followed.
“Help me,” Onna begged, pushing to her feet and sliding her arms into the smoldering car. She caught Cora beneath the armpits, ignoring the startling white of jagged bone protruding from her forearm and shards of glass that remained in the window frame. Cora’s eyes were closed. Blood dripped from a gash in her hairline, from her nose, her ears.
More hands appeared beside Onna’s as onlookers braved the fire. Everett counted to three and they pulled. Black smoke poured from the engine, filling the car and making it impossible to see. Distantly, Onna knew she was coughing, suffocating. Her lungs ached from lack of oxygen.
Undeterred, she rearranged her grip on Cora and Everett counted again. It took four tries, but eventually Cora came free, her weight falling against them like the dead limbs of a ragdoll. Onna climbed toward the spot Cora vacated before they’d even carried Cora to safety.
Hands pulled her back. “You can’t.” Everett’s words ended with a wracking cough that loosened his grip.
She stumbled away and lunged for the opening. Glass tore at her arms and legs and ripped her shirt. Smoke oozed across her vision like poison, scalding her eyes. Gasoline and heat filled her throat. She coughed. “Caleb?” Using her fingertips, she found hot metal, sharp bits of glass, and cottony stuffing spewing from the seat. She tried to call his name again, but no sound came out.
Her head grew heavy.
She was spinning. Dizzying lights flashed in front of her eyes. Onna jammed her hands farther into twisting metal. She felt something warm. Damp. Solid.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KACEY VANDERKARR has a penchant for fantasy and frequently listens to the voices in her head—most of whom are teenagers. Her favorite place to write is an old salon chair in her kitchen, with coffee in one hand and adoring cats sprawled across her arms. She prefers her music loud and her skeptics quiet. When she’s not writing, Kacey coaches winterguard, works as a sonographer, and hangs out with
other weirdos like her at the Flint Area Writer’s club. In addition to her novels, The Reflection Pond Series, Antithesis, and The Stone Series, Kacey’s short fiction is featured in Sucker Literary Vol III, Ember: A Journal of Luminous Things, and Out of the Green: Tales from Fairyland.
Publication date: July 28, 2015
Publisher: Month9Books, LLC.
Author: Heather L. Reid
It’s been five weeks, two days, and eight hours since the demons forced Quinn to throw herself into the raging river, since Aaron sacrificed himself to save her, since his body disappeared without a trace.
Everyone wants Quinn to move on, but she can’t, not after a spirit appears to her at Aaron’s memorial, convincing her he’s still alive.
When a mysterious box materializes on the very spot Aaron disappeared, Quinn finds she’s at the center of an ancient prophesy of betrayal, revenge, and sacrifice that takes her to the depths of the underworld to face Lilith—Adam’s first wife.
If Quinn can stop Lilith from unleashing the demon horde Eve, trapped inside the box during the Battle of Eden millennia ago, she will save the human realm and free Aaron from an eternity in torment.
All it will cost is her blood.
The youngest of six talented sisters, Elyse d’Abreau was destined for stardom—until a boating
accident took everything from her. Now, the most beautiful singer in Tobago can’t sing. She can’t even speak.
Seeking quiet solitude, Elyse accepts a friend’s invitation to Atargatis Cove. Named for the mythical first mermaid, the Oregon seaside town is everything Elyse’s home in the Caribbean isn’t: an ocean
too cold for swimming, parties too tame for singing, and people too polite to pry—except for one.
Christian Kane is a notorious playboy—insolent, arrogant, and completely charming. He’s also the only person in Atargatis Cove who doesn’t treat Elyse like a glass statue. He challenges her to express herself, and he admires the way she treats his younger brother, Sebastian, who believes Elyse is the legendary mermaid come to life.
When Christian needs a first mate for the Cove’s high-stakes Pirate Regatta, Elyse reluctantly stows her fear of the sea and climbs aboard. The ocean isn’t the only thing making waves, though—swept up in Christian’s seductive tide and entranced by the Cove’s charms, Elyse begins to wonder if a life of
solitude isn’t what she needs. But changing course again means facing her past. It means finding her inner voice. And scariest of all, it means opening her heart to a boy who’s best known for breaking them…
Welcome to my stop of Shane’ Morgan’s Our Kind of Love promo tour. See excerpt & giveaway below:
Publisher: TSW Books
Synopsis via Goodreads:
Reign is convinced that Nate is the perfect guy for her. That’s until Micah walks into her Mom’s restaurant looking for a job. Now Reign can’t seem to stop her heart from yearning for the guy with the mysterious sea blue eyes and melting smile.
Micah is all but perfect. He’s spent eight months in a juvenile detention center back in Colorado for his unintentional involvement in a crime. Now at nineteen and hoping to escape his ghosts, he lands a part-time job working at a seaside restaurant in Newport, Rhode Island where he meets the irresistible Reign.
He can’t help the way he feels whenever he’s around her, but she’s already taken and Micah doesn’t want to disrupt her life or get himself in anymore trouble. But then his attraction for Reign proves too strong to deny, and Micah finds that he just might discover a reason to stop running.
About the Author
Shane Morgan is a twenty-something bestselling author of Young Adult and New Adult Fiction. Currently living in the beautiful town of Narragansett, Rhode Island, Shane spends her days blogging, reading, and escaping in her stories.
Sitting down on a park bench, I stare up at the colors of the fading sky. The bursting orange and yellows mix together like one big orgasm. I appreciate the natural beauty for a while, until something, okay, someone, more captivating graces my view.
A young woman, lost in thought, walks barefoot across the sea wall made of rustic red pebble stones separating sand from sea. With the poise of a gymnast, her body shivers with each step against the ocean breeze. Her cute blue dress with floral prints flares modestly just below her knees. She pays no attention to anything else around her, unaware of how my eyes are trained on her every move.
As the setting sun slants across her tanned legs, she pauses for a beat. Flipping straight light brown hair off her shoulders, strands falling elegantly down her back. I love long hair on girls; the smell—that’s if it’s clean, I’ve had instances where it wasn’t—the feel, and the texture. Caught up, I lean forward, my gaze fixed on nothing but her. Turn. How I wish she’d turn around so I could see her face. Even my heart begins to thud with anticipation.
Finally, as if hearing me, she twists, her attention riveted on something out on the street to her left. Oh c’mon, turn toward me. The sun will be gone in minutes. She swivels, fully around this time. I’m breathless as I catch a glimpse. She’s beautiful, but I don’t mean that in a shallow way. Something about her intrigues me.
So what am I doing? Why am I just sitting here watching her?
Snapping back to my senses, I spring from the bench and start to walk over to her, hoping she won’t run away when I tell her how angelic she is before my eyes. Jeez. That’s corny as Hell, but I don’t care. I have to talk to this girl.
I’m almost there when the loud beep-beep of a car draws her attention. She twirls and I stop in my tracks. A wide smile spreads across her pink lips, and like an idiot, I convince myself she’s actually smiling at me. Realization bites me on the ass when she hurries past me like I’m invisible, heading for the red jeep parked on the side of the street waiting for her.
She didn’t see me. Like seriously?
I stand in place and watch as she climbs inside the jeep, shuts the door, and the driver takes off. Now I feel like crap, because I wasted time and missed the chance to talk to her. I wonder if I’ll ever see her again.
With hunched shoulders, I walk up the sand onto the grass and sit back on the bench, dumping grains out of my flip-flops.
A lone gull scampers across the sand. A bright moon rises in the sky. I run my fingers through my already messy hair and start to laugh at myself. Dude, why did you get so riled up? That girl’s simply another pretty face. How many have I seen these last few months? Why should I care? We meet, hook-up, and I move on.
The last thing I’m looking for is a girlfriend. I’m a no commitments type of guy. None of them ever took the guilt away, anyway.
But it’s crazy how I feel now. From just one look, my gut says that girl is worth getting to know. Maybe someone I wouldn’t mind sticking around for.