I wish I could say our meeting was happenstance. I wish I could say we took one look and we just knew. I wish I could say falling for him was the best thing that ever happened to me. But none of that would be true. Rhett Carson was as cold as the ice on which he skated. He was as calloused as the hands that shot the goals that won world titles. He was also damaged. And broken. And he didn’t know it, but I knew all about him. I knew why he was so bitter and angry. I knew why he was so coldhearted. But I didn’t know why I allowed myself fall in love with him, and I didn’t know why I couldn’t stop…even when he told me to. And that’s when everything changed. 
“How do you know where I am?” I ask.
“You called me last night, remember?” My former college roommate answers, huffing into the phone. I rest my elbows against the counter, hunched forward. “No. I don’t remember anything about last night.” “Not surprising. You never could hold your liquor,” she says, sighing. “Plus you said you were drinking Jäger, and you always do stupid shit when you drink Jäger. You should probably check your phone and make sure you didn’t call any ex-boyfriends.” She coughs. “Ethan.” She coughs again. “Noah.” Shit. She’s probably right. She knows me well. “Anyway, I’ll be there innnnn about five minutes,” Bostyn says. I hang up with her and check my call history with suspended breath, breathing easy when I see there are no Ethans or Noahs in my call history. It never fails. I get drunk–I drunk dial ex-boyfriends. I’m a sentimental, gushing idiot when I’ve had too much to drink, and the alcohol always makes me temporarily forget all the reasons we didn’t work out, even if those reasons were rock solid. Pulling up Safari on my phone, I check my web history as well because I’ve been known to do a bit of drunk-emailing in my day, though I suppose that comes with the whole writer territory. My agent tells me I’m the only person she knows who drunk–emails people, but I don’t believe her. There are more of us out there, I just know it. Within seconds, I'm able to confirm the contents of my Google search history seem about right. What time is in Los Angeles right now? What time does Starbucks open tomorrow? Starbucks + Lexington Avenue + NYC How many calories are in a venti very berry hibiscus refresher? Starrbuckks vs Dean and Delluucca who is better? Turtle meeme Turtle memee Turrtle meme Funny turtle memes Baby sea turtle gif
Is there actual deer blood in Jägermeister? Rhett Carson Rhett Carson + New York Spartans Rhett Carson hockey player Are pet sloths legal? Rhett Carson girlfriend How tall is Rhett Carson? Rhett Carson biography Rhett Carson photos Well, fuck. Drunk me must’ve been doing a bit of research last night. I chuff and place my phone back on the charger. I have zero recollection of any of that. I wonder if I found anything good? Or what the hell made me so curious that I had to dig up everything I could about this poor man? 
Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.
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Are friends with benefits worth the cost? My cocky friend Will doesn't believe that I'm frigid, but what does he know? His promises might make me shiver but it doesn't mean he can give me a happy. He's so confident he's betting me money on it, and a thousand bucks is a lot of money to a poor college student. Once should be enough to taunt him with "I told you so," right? But I didn't know he meant trying everything once... This super hot 25,000-word standalone new adult romance novella has adult language and themes, and a happy ending (several, actually). 
“Let me ask you something,” he said, squinting his eyes at me. I nodded hesitantly, and his hands splayed out further on my face. His thumbs drew together to almost touch under my chin, and his pinky fingers grazed my earlobes, sending a ripple down my spine. It was like he was studying the shape of my jaw, the line of my throat and the curve of my cheekbones.
“Have you ever been aroused?”
My eyes widened. “Uh, I suppose so? I’m not a virgin,” I reminded him. Technically.
He scowled. “You can have sex without being aroused, though it’s sure as fuck a bad idea. And you can most definitely be aroused without having sex.”
I opened my mouth to say something then closed it, to which he raised an eyebrow.
“Do you want me to list the clinical symptoms?”
No, I didn’t. His hands trailed down my neck, the pads of his thumbs coming to rest in the hollow at the base of my throat. Hopefully he couldn’t feel my heart racing.
“Maybe I’m asexual,” I suggested, a lump forming in the back of my throat. “I mean, I’ve never even gone to a bar and thought someone was hot.” I felt like such a freak. “Aren’t girls my age supposed to get drunk and want to get laid?”
He tilted his head one way, then the other, examining me. “It’s possible,” he granted. “But I doubt it. You’re getting turned on right now.”
“No…”
“Arousal is a physical reaction to stimulus, as well as a mental one.” While he spoke, his thumbs traced my collarbone on either side, back and forth, like he was rubbing a lucky penny in his pocket. “It’s easier to become aroused by someone you feel comfortable with already,” he informed me as I let out a little hum.
Then he must be wrong, I thought. I was feeling distinctly uncomfortable right now, like a cat whose fur was being rubbed the wrong way.
Bending his head towards me, he took me by surprise with a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.
“What are you doing?” Oh god.
He leaned in again to kiss the other side of my mouth, but I was frozen in place.
“Testing your theory,” he said against my lips.
Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.
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\nI didn’t want this life. \nBut sometimes you’re forced to make the best of the crappy hand you’ve been dealt. I wanted to teach my daughter that. No matter what happens you face your problems head-on. Never cower. Never give up. Then someone took her and I had to put my faith in a system that had failed me, and my hope in a man I didn’t know. Serve. Honor. Protect, are the only things I’ve ever cared about until her case was dropped on my desk. As we searched for her missing daughter, the last woman I thought I’d fall in love with became my reason for living. Then the world came crashing down around us. One secret would change everything, but I had one more hand to be dealt. And if I played my cards right, maybe, just maybe we’d get our piece of heaven. \n
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\nChapter Eleven \nMarissa The bells over the door ring every single time someone walks in. I’ve been on edge ever since I got in this morning. Lucky for me it’s been non-stop people coming in, so my mind hasn’t been able to wander to Lori. Now that it has been quiet and I’m filling the salt and pepper shakers, my mind wanders. It wanders to my baby girl, who is somewhere out there begging to come home. The sound of her voice plays in my head on repeat. My hands start to shake, so I close my eyes and sit down on a chair before my knees buckle. I blink away the tears threatening to fall over, my heart starting to beat so fast I hear the echoes in my ears. A plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and gravy is shoved in front of me. Phyllis’s eyes greet me when I look up. “Eat that and then go home. You are done for the day. You’ve been here for fourteen hours.” I look over at the clock hanging behind the counter that reads 8 p.m., realizing she’s right. “I’m just going to finish filling the shakers then I’ll take off.” I know she’s about to argue with me when the bell over the door rings again, making us both look up. His eyes find me right away. My heart that was starting to calm down is now speeding up. I focus on my meal, cutting a piece of meatloaf and dipping it in the gravy before popping it into my mouth. I try to ignore the heat of his stare, try to think of anything but him and that naked woman from last night. His girlfriend. I was so stupid to think that he would actually want me. I’m a used up stripper whose daughter ran away from home. I’m the opposite of what he wants or needs. The chair in front of me is filled with his big frame. The scent of his aftershave, of cologne lingers around us. Musky, rich, and woodsy. It’s the smell that has seeped its way into my memory along with the way his lips felt on mine. The way that I just fit, like I was made for him. I blink away the memory, looking up at him. \n
\n“All the seats in this place are open and you sit in front of me?” I ask him before scooping up more food. I didn’t notice how hungry I was till I started eating. \n“You didn’t text me back.” His voice is hard, his muscles tight, his jaw ticking. I take out my phone. “Oh, I put the do not disturb on under your name. Maybe that’s why.” My phone is snapped out of my hand in a blink of an eye. “What the fuck?” I see him touching the screen angrily and turning it off. “You know you’re doing that for nothing since I can turn it on again?” I finish off my whole plate, making my stomach hurt since it’s the first thing I’ve eaten since last night. “What if I had information on Lori?” Bulls-eye, hit straight through my heart. He must see the color drain from my face as I realize that I fucked up. I’m not going to admit it to him, though. “I don’t have Jackson’s number blocked, and he would have called me.” I shrug my shoulders, picking up my plate to bring it to the gray bussing bin. Walking over, I wipe down the table right when Phyllis comes out from the kitchen. “There you are! I have your order ready. It’s being boxed up. Did you want dessert with that?” His eyes never leave mine. “No, that’s okay. Thanks, Phyllis.” I grab my phone from him, putting it in the front pocket of my waitress pouch. “I’m taking off. My feet are killing me. See you tomorrow, Phyllis.” I don’t wait for her to say anything to me before I walk out the door to my car. Turning it on, I drive home, determined not to give Mick another minute of my thoughts. Just one problem with that plan, though. No one mentioned to my head that I wasn’t thinking about him because his eyes flash in my mind, the hard lines around them. The sorrow that is buried there, the sadness that he thinks no one sees but is there, if you look long enough. \n
\nI make my way into my apartment, taking my shoes off my throbbing feet at the door. \nWalking into the kitchen, I take out the tips from my pocket and count them out. Three hundred and seventeen dollars. Two hundred of that is going to that damn debt that I’m still paying off. I can’t fucking wait till it’s over. I walk over to Lori’s room like I do every single night, turning on the light to see if maybe something has been misplaced or moved. I’ve put scotch tape on the drawers to alert me if they’ve been opened, but it’s still intact. I’ve labeled her clothes hanging in the closet by number, and I count them, seeing that none have been taken either. The bed is exactly how she left it. I crawl into her bed and grab her pillow, breathing in her scent. Tears run down my face, seeping into the pillow. This has become my nightly routine. I sleep here so I’m closer to her. I lie in this bed, talking to her. Telling her about my day, praying that she calls me again. I tell her stories about when she was small, about the day they placed her in my arms. The tears never stop. It’s like an endless river. The soft knock at the door has me raising my head. Walking slowly to the door, I look through the peephole and see that Mick is in the hallway. His hands are braced against the doorframe, his head hanging down. I place my forehead on the door, take a deep breath in, and open the door. His eyes land right on mine. The tears continue to roll down my cheeks, right off my chin on their way to the floor. He brings his thumb up to my chin, catching them. “Marissa,” he whispers, and it’s all I can do before I collapse into his arms, sobbing. Begging. Pleading with him to bring her back to me. He picks me up and carries me inside. Sitting on the couch with me curled into a ball in his lap, my tears soak his shirt. I’m so exhausted from the fear, stress, and worry. I’m just too tired to move. \n
\n“I’m a good mom,” I whisper to him. “I was tough on her only because I wanted better for her. Wanted her out of this life. Wanted her to be something.” My hand lies on his chest, the beat of his heart pounding against my palm. \n“I know, baby, I know.” I don’t say anything more. I just continue to soak up the feeling of his heart beating as it calms me. My eyes droop, and the exhaustion drags me under. I don’t move from this position all night. I wake the next morning with the same heart beating against my hand. \n
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\nWhen her nose isn\'t buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she\'s in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It\'s a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn\'t listen to her...
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Title: Below the Line: Nomad Bikers
Series: Devil's Due MC #2
Author: Chelsea Camaron
Genre: MC Romance (standalone within series)
Release Date: January 30, 2017
The bastard boy was left alone when his mother was murdered and her killer never found. The domino effect of one person’s crime going unpunished is everlasting.
He’s no saint.
Owen ‘X’ Gallow has never known a real home. Groomed by the streets, he now has a life with the Devil’s Due MC that gives him the only comfort he has ever known. Family comes by blood and by choice. All Owen has left is his by selection. He keeps his circle close and doesn’t care to have a future.
She’s not afraid to call herself a sinner.
Hadley Combs doesn’t ask questions, and she has never had anyone to cover her back. She was born alone and will die alone, or at least, that’s how she views her life. In order to get by, she has a job to do—get them off and get herself paid, no talking necessary. The life of a hooker isn’t easy, but she gets by.
However, danger climbs in her bed.
Will Owen find a way to let Hadley in? When faced with the dangers of her lifestyle, will Hadley let Owen and his brothers keep her safe?
Love, hate, anger, and passion collide as the time comes, and the devil demands his due.
   
  
“I'm loving this series! Not surprisingly since Chelsea is one of my go to authors who never leaves me disappointed.” - Goodreads Reviewer “This was a good quick read and I can't wait for the next in the series.” - Review from Cat’s Guilty Pleasures 
~Owen~
People buy into that romance shit. If you look for it hard enough, I’m sure it can be found. There’s someone out there for everyone, all that bullshit. Shit, shit, and more fucking shit.
Love. Never known it.
Acceptance. Never had it.
Freedom. Depends on how you define it.
Only with Hadley it was all different. She loved me. Not in the climb on my cock and ride herself to oblivion way, I see so many women do. No, what Hadley and I shared even at our young age was a slow burn in your soul deep, she understood me way kind of love, companionship, and partnership. We were young. We were innocent and yet hardened by life. Even in all the dark, she found light with me.
She believed in me when I didn’t fucking believe in myself. Then she was gone.
She loved deep. She loved hard. She loved me.
Acceptance. Hadley took me at face value. No one cared to hear the story of my mother’s murder. The cops simply took me away and never put any resources into finding her killer. No one stopped in the deep south of Louisiana to give me a chance to explain. I saw him. Her killer. I know who did it. I remember finding her and seeing a figure running away. Deep in the recesses of my mind, I know I can identify him. Yet no one asked me back then. They didn’t question me. Instead, I was handed a pillowcase to fill as my new luggage and carted off to foster care. All the kids told me I was jinxed, a black soul one little girl said.
I wasn’t cursed.
Voodoo, black magic, I didn’t have the bad juju they all said I did.
Hadley didn’t look down on me for getting out of the system to face life on my own. She didn’t even gasp in surprise that I’m the one who found my mother’s body. She simply looked up at me with her midnight black eyes shimmering and said, “well you may be a bastard, but you’re still good to me Owen Maximus.”
She accepted who I was. She accepted where I came from. She accepted where I wanted to be … and it wasn’t living on the streets of NOLA.
Freedom. Hadley freed me from the chains of my past. She didn’t care where I came from or where I was headed. She only wanted to be with me.
Hadley gave me a simple freedom to be me. She freed me from society’s chains by not judging me. Hadley was my escape from all the bad.
Until she simply disappeared.
USA Today Bestselling author Chelsea Camaron is a small town Carolina girl with a big imagination. She is a wife and mom chasing her dreams. She writes contemporary romance, erotic suspense, and psychological thrillers. She loves to write blue-collar men who have real problems with a fictional twist. From mechanics to bikers to oil riggers to smokejumpers, bar owners, and beyond, she loves a strong hero who works hard and plays harder.
     
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COVER REVEAL!
A tragic accident in the middle of an immobilizing blizzard joins Gavin Fletcher and Chloe Cabot, uniting two tarnished souls on a life-changing journey that defies the odds of their haunting pasts in BLEMISHED, the new novel by Amazon bestselling author of erotic romance Juliet Braddock.
Beautiful and imaginative, Chloe struggles to survive the daily grind of life in Chicago. An artist who never dared to explore her dreams, she takes pride in her independence and fends for herself at all costs.
A young advertising executive who’s rising fast within the industry, Gavin has built an ordered and precise life, but he’s much more lonesome than he’ll ever admit.
Both exist in worlds veiled in secrecy.
On the surface, Gavin’s life exudes perfection. He’s building his own thriving business, but beneath that slick exterior, he’s hiding the truth about his enigmatic lifestyle.
Chloe, on the other hand, has been dealt a rough hand in life. As details of her heart-wrenching past emerge, she fears she might lose Gavin for good.
Together, though, they discover solace in each other’s arms. While Chloe blossoms as Gavin’s submissive under his tough but tender tutelage, she wonders if he might just be the one to break the façade of fear that surrounded her heart.
Just as emotion transforms them from reluctant strangers into unlikely but enduring lovers, heartbreak strikes their relationship again, forcing an unforeseen reversal of roles.
   
Amazon bestselling author Juliet Braddock’s first efforts in creative writing came long before she learned to put crayon to paper. In fact, she began spinning stories in her head nearly as soon as she could form complete sentences. As long as she can remember, she’d always created sagas about imaginary friends, family members and pop culture icons, and kept everyone around her entertained with her witty—but often very tall—tales.
For her sixth Christmas, Juliet’s mother got her a child’s typewriter to preserve all of those creative thoughts filling her head, but she quickly switched to ball point pens and notebooks when the ribbon ran dry.
Most of Juliet’s early attempts at writing romance focused on members of Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet or young leading men on Broadway. However, as she matured as a writer, she decided that it was just as much fun to create her own romantic heroes and heroines.
At an early age, she also developed a love for big cities, and the tallest of skyscrapers were never high enough for her. Juliet’s wanderlust would eventually lure her to New York, a city she often visited during her formative years, and her love affair with Manhattan began. She’d promised herself that one day she would return for good.
Juliet’s passion for writing and for big cities converged, and after graduating with a degree in Journalism, she decided to set out on a journey to find her heart…just where she’d left it.
A week after her college graduation, Juliet made the big move from a small town to New York City, where she has made her home ever since.
In between building a career in communications and writing on the side, she’s indulged in international travel, theater and art. A wine and food buff, she’s by no means a connoisseur, but she can give a few good restaurant recommendations if you’re in the city.
“There’s something so inspiring about living in a city like New York that’s so rich in culture and so very vibrant. Every neighborhood has its own story to tell,†Juliet says. “I often do my best plotting on the subway, just observing the lives unfolding around me. New York truly has a billion stories nestled between the skyscrapers.â€
A proud Manhattanite, Juliet couldn’t live anywhere else—except for Paris, perhaps—and is a gushing cat-mom to a Russian Blue mix who was rescued as a kitten from the streets of Brooklyn.
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Lines Drawn (Drawn to you Book 2)By Author Ker DukeyRelease Date: March 27, 2017
Synopsis
One phone call.
One secret.
One moment changed us all.
Everything is different now and learning to survive all over again comes with a price.
Deception, heartbreak, and sorrow implode the relationships that were once strong.
The lines are drawn, who will cross it?
Pre-order for instant Kindle delivery!Amazon.us | Amazon.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.auPlease take a moment to also add to Goodreads!
Haven't read Drawn To You?
GRAB IT FOR FREE NOW!!Amazon.us | Amazon.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.auAlso available on Kindle Unlimited!
Meet Ker Dukey
I have always had a passion for storytelling, whether it be through lyrics or bedtime stories with my sisters. I wanted to be an actress growing up so I could live many roles but I learned early on that my mind was too active… I would want to change the script.I would watch films and think of ways they could have improved the story if they took another direction so I thought it best that I tell my own.
My mum would always have a book in her hand when I was young and passed on her love for reading, inspiring me to venture into writing my own. I tend to have a darker edge to my writing. Not all love stories are made of light, some are created in darkness but are just as powerful and worth telling.
When I’m not lost in the world of characters I love spending time with my family. I’m a mum and that comes first in my life but when I do get down time I love attending music concerts or reading events with my younger sister.
You can find me on Facebook where I love interacting with my readers.
This is Me, Babyby K. Webster War & Peace Series Publication Date: February 7, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance
About K. Webster 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: www.authorkwebster.com Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bllgoP
Penance and Promisesby L.A. Cotton A Chastity Falls Novella Publication Date: January 30, 2017 Genres: New Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Amazon US | Amazon UK | iBooks | Nook | Kobo Seven years ago, Ana Parry walked into Chastity Falls Academy and changed the lives of Jackson Pierce and Braiden Donohue. Her arrival set into motion a series of events that none of them could have ever predicted. But they got out. Escaping Chastity Falls, they left behind a life built on lies and secrets, danger and fear. … Didn’t they? Penance will be served, promises will be made. Welcome to the end of Chastity Falls.
Chastity Falls: The Complete Series Box Set (releases February 13th, special pre-order price of $3.99) Amazon US | Amazon UK | iBooks | Nook | Kobo "The Chastity Falls series had me intrigued, captivated and spellbound from the first word right down to the very last. Take a trip to Chastity Falls, I dare you!" ~ Our Kindle Konfessions When seventeen-year-old, Ana Parry arrives in Chastity Falls, it’s supposed to be her fresh start, her escape. But then she meets the mysterious Jackson. She shouldn’t want him. He definitely shouldn’t want her. Before they know it, it’s too late, and their attraction sparks a series of events that neither of them could have predicted. Loyalties will be tested, lies will be told. Welcome to Chastity Falls. Box Set includes: Loyalty and Lies Salvation and Secrets Tribulation and Truths Redemption and Regrets … and the brand new novella: Penance and PromisesAbout L.A. Cotton Contemporary romance and romantic suspense … written with feeling L.A is author of contemporary romance novels ranging from sweet with just a hint of steam, to suspenseful reads full of angst, tension, twists and turns. Home is a small town in the middle of England where she currently juggles being a full-time mum to two little people with writing. In her spare time (and when she’s not camped out in front of the laptop) you’ll most likely find L. A immersed in a book, escaping the chaos that is life.
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She’ll be his greatest conquest. INGRID I should have been afraid of him, the brutal man with the violence covering him and blood on his face. But he’d saved me from a fate worse than death. He was a Viking, a man who took what he wanted because he could, because no one dared to cross him, to go against him. And he claimed me. I was his now, and I didn’t want to fight that. GUNNAR From the moment I saw Ingrid I knew I wanted her as mine, as my wife, the future mother of my children. I’ll go to any lengths to keep her by my side, to make her see I’m not letting her go. I may give her the option to leave, to find her own way, but the truth is I would follow her to the ends of the earth to keep her close. I’m a Viking, a savage, dangerous and violent. I don’t give up when I see something I want. I’ve been searching for Ingrid my whole life; I just didn’t realize it until I looked into her blue eyes. She will be mine. No matter what. Warning: Hope you like your men filthy, brutal, and willing to slay for the woman he’s claimed, because in this story you’re getting it all and then some. It’s dirty, totally unbelievable, and probably holds no real historical facts, but it’s fun and hot and hits the right spot. It is what it is, so hang on and enjoy the ride. 
The sound of a battle cry wrenched through the air. The men around me took a fighting stance. I searched the village, seeing nothing but flames and smoke. The shadows crept around where the flames didn’t lick. A grunt. A cry of pain. The scent of blood in the air. The feeling of my enemies life force covering me. It all hit me suddenly, and I fell forward, bracing my hands in the dirt, my breathing labored. I could hear fighting all around me, and I expected any second that final blow that would end my life. But it never came. And when the silence stretched on, I lifted my head and looked around. The Vikings who’d destroyed my village were around me, their bodies bloody and broken. My heart thundered, and my throat was dry. I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just the thick smoke that surrounded me like a cloak, but my fear of what was out there. Of who had killed my enemy. And then I heard heavy footsteps coming closer, but the fire raged on, making it impossible to see anything. I tried to stand, but my legs didn’t want to work. I heard my heart thundering in my ears, felt the pulse at the base of my neck.
The man who came into view was not a savior, a hero that had saved the day. He might have killed the men who’d hurt me, but he was still a Viking. His short dark hair, the leather, fur, and blood from his enemies that he wore making it known he’d seen violence…he’d delivered it himself. But although he was the same as the ones who’d terrorized my village, he’d also killed them, stopped them before they could take from me what wasn’t freely offered. And then I saw several more men step up behind him. It was clear they were with him, part of his clan, as their shields showed the same coloring, the same crest. Their focus was intense, their attention trained right on me. They conversed with each other in a dialect I wasn’t familiar with. When the Viking in front of me started speaking, this time to me, I could only shake my head. I didn’t know if they meant me harm, or if they were worse than the ones they’d killed. “Please, I don’t understand. I don’t know what’s happening.” I lifted my dirt and blood covered hands, knowing they were shaking. These Vikings probably didn’t understand me either. “You’re afraid of us.” The one I’d seen first spoke to me, his words clear and his accent thick. He knew my language. “Yes,” I whispered. There wasn’t any point in lying. He could see how clear my fear was. It was written along my body, in telltale signs.
“You have nothing to fear from us.” He held his hand out to me, and although maybe I still should have been afraid, should have tried to outrun them, to escape, the truth was I did feel safe. I didn’t know if they were telling me the truth, but they’d killed the men who had destroyed my home, who had been about to do unspeakable things to me. They could have harmed me ten times over by now, but they didn’t, they hadn’t. So I lifted my shaking hand and slipped it into his bigger one, his palm covered in blood, his strength clear. He helped me to stand, and I had to crane my neck back to stare into his face. He was huge, his body wide, muscular. I could see his eyes, a bright blue that didn’t look soft. I could see the violence and danger reflected in them, staring right into my very being. I was aware of the destruction around us, of the bodies littering our feet. I could even feel the other two men watching us. I knew I should say something, anything, but I was lost in this hazy feeling of confusion, slight fear and…warmth. And then he leaned down slightly so we were eye to eye. He lifted his hand, cupped my cheek, and said in a voice so deep, so masculine I couldn’t help but shiver, “You’re mine, female.” I didn’t know what my fate was, but at this point I had nothing else to lose. 
Jenika Snow is a USA Today Bestselling Author that lives in the northwest with her husband and their two daughters. Before she started writing full-time she worked as a nurse.
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Title: Embody Author: S.E. Hall Genre: New Adult Romance
My world changed when I met Bellamy Morgan. Just one problem — she's my little sister's best friend.
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She’ll be his greatest conquest. INGRID I should have been afraid of him, the brutal man with the violence covering him and blood on his face. But he’d saved me from a fate worse than death. He was a Viking, a man who took what he wanted because he could, because no one dared to cross him, to go against him. And he claimed me. I was his now, and I didn’t want to fight that. GUNNAR From the moment I saw Ingrid I knew I wanted her as mine, as my wife, the future mother of my children. I’ll go to any lengths to keep her by my side, to make her see I’m not letting her go. I may give her the option to leave, to find her own way, but the truth is I would follow her to the ends of the earth to keep her close. I’m a Viking, a savage, dangerous and violent. I don’t give up when I see something I want. I’ve been searching for Ingrid my whole life; I just didn’t realize it until I looked into her blue eyes. She will be mine. No matter what. Warning: Hope you like your men filthy, brutal, and willing to slay for the woman he’s claimed, because in this story you’re getting it all and then some. It’s dirty, totally unbelievable, and probably holds no real historical facts, but it’s fun and hot and hits the right spot. It is what it is, so hang on and enjoy the ride.
The sound of a battle cry wrenched through the air. The men around me took a fighting stance. I searched the village, seeing nothing but flames and smoke. The shadows crept around where the flames didn’t lick. A grunt. A cry of pain. The scent of blood in the air. The feeling of my enemies life force covering me. It all hit me suddenly, and I fell forward, bracing my hands in the dirt, my breathing labored. I could hear fighting all around me, and I expected any second that final blow that would end my life. But it never came. And when the silence stretched on, I lifted my head and looked around. The Vikings who’d destroyed my village were around me, their bodies bloody and broken. My heart thundered, and my throat was dry. I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just the thick smoke that surrounded me like a cloak, but my fear of what was out there. Of who had killed my enemy. And then I heard heavy footsteps coming closer, but the fire raged on, making it impossible to see anything. I tried to stand, but my legs didn’t want to work. I heard my heart thundering in my ears, felt the pulse at the base of my neck.
The man who came into view was not a savior, a hero that had saved the day. He might have killed the men who’d hurt me, but he was still a Viking. His short dark hair, the leather, fur, and blood from his enemies that he wore making it known he’d seen violence…he’d delivered it himself. But although he was the same as the ones who’d terrorized my village, he’d also killed them, stopped them before they could take from me what wasn’t freely offered. And then I saw several more men step up behind him. It was clear they were with him, part of his clan, as their shields showed the same coloring, the same crest. Their focus was intense, their attention trained right on me. They conversed with each other in a dialect I wasn’t familiar with. When the Viking in front of me started speaking, this time to me, I could only shake my head. I didn’t know if they meant me harm, or if they were worse than the ones they’d killed. “Please, I don’t understand. I don’t know what’s happening.” I lifted my dirt and blood covered hands, knowing they were shaking. These Vikings probably didn’t understand me either. “You’re afraid of us.” The one I’d seen first spoke to me, his words clear and his accent thick. He knew my language. “Yes,” I whispered. There wasn’t any point in lying. He could see how clear my fear was. It was written along my body, in telltale signs.
“You have nothing to fear from us.” He held his hand out to me, and although maybe I still should have been afraid, should have tried to outrun them, to escape, the truth was I did feel safe. I didn’t know if they were telling me the truth, but they’d killed the men who had destroyed my home, who had been about to do unspeakable things to me. They could have harmed me ten times over by now, but they didn’t, they hadn’t. So I lifted my shaking hand and slipped it into his bigger one, his palm covered in blood, his strength clear. He helped me to stand, and I had to crane my neck back to stare into his face. He was huge, his body wide, muscular. I could see his eyes, a bright blue that didn’t look soft. I could see the violence and danger reflected in them, staring right into my very being. I was aware of the destruction around us, of the bodies littering our feet. I could even feel the other two men watching us. I knew I should say something, anything, but I was lost in this hazy feeling of confusion, slight fear and…warmth. And then he leaned down slightly so we were eye to eye. He lifted his hand, cupped my cheek, and said in a voice so deep, so masculine I couldn’t help but shiver, “You’re mine, female.” I didn’t know what my fate was, but at this point I had nothing else to lose.
Jenika Snow is a USA Today Bestselling Author that lives in the northwest with her husband and their two daughters. Before she started writing full-time she worked as a nurse.
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Coming January 31st
I wish I could say our meeting was happenstance. I wish I could say we took one look and we just knew. I wish I could say falling for him was the best thing that ever happened to me. But none of that would be true. Rhett Carson was as cold as the ice on which he skated. He was as calloused as the hands that shot the goals that won world titles. He was also damaged. And broken. And he didn’t know it, but I knew all about him. I knew why he was so bitter and angry. I knew why he was so coldhearted. But I didn’t know why I allowed myself fall in love with him, and I didn’t know why I couldn’t stop…even when he told me to. And that’s when everything changed. 
“I should probably get your number,” I say.
He wrinkles his nose. “Why?” “I don’t know. In case I wind up pregnant or something. You came a lot. And condoms aren’t always one hundred percent.” His expression turns to ash until he realizes I’m kidding. “Anyway.” I pull my blouse over my head and fluff my hair around my shoulders. “Thanks for that.” I’m halfway to the door with my purse over my shoulder when he says, “Thanks for that? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “It’s just an expression. What am I supposed to say?” I shrug. If I tell him it was amazing and we should do it again, then it’s going to turn into a thing. A big, ugly, complicated thing that I won’t be able to explain my way out of. “Nothing,” he says. “Just say nothing. You don’t have to make it all awkward by thanking me for sex. Who does that?” “I’m sorry. Does that make you feel used?” I hide my chuckle with my hand, and he comes at me with a giant smirk on his face, pressing his hard-as-steel chest against my body until my back’s against the door. “God, you have a smart mouth.” His hand lifts to my face, and he drags his thumb along my lower lip, his eyes fixated there as if he’s replaying the last thirty minutes in his head. I’m painfully aware of the fact that our mouths are inches, maybe even mere centimeters apart. If he wanted to kiss me again, I’d let him. I wouldn’t say no. I wouldn’t protest or try to stop him, even though it’d be the right thing to do. Kissing Rhett feels different from any other man, and I’m not sure if it’s because of his his powerful, complicated aura—or the fact that something so morally, ethically wrong could feel so dangerously good. I want to ask what he’s doing when our gazes catch. I want to know what this is. And why me? But I know this can never be anything, so asking would be pointless. Besides, more than likely he’s just a horny guy who saw a girl in a bar and decided to go in for the kill.
In my heart of hearts, I know our time together was more about convenience than poetics. “I should go,” I say, releasing a sheltered breath. His smirk fades, along with the dimples I’m just now noticing, and his steely gaze darkens. “Yeah,” he says, as if he’s suddenly drawn the same conclusions but for reasons all his own. “You should.” 
Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.
And if you'd like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here ---> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j
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Text 2 Loversby K. Webster & J.D. Hollyfield Publication Date: January 24, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy
It’s the start of nothing good. I fired off a storm of raunchy text messages…to the wrong number. And he replied. Him: Show me a picture. Him: Tell me your name. Why does the lure of anonymity have me craving to indulge a stranger? It’s the start of everything right. I received a slew of text messages…when everything in my life was wrong. And she made me laugh again. Her: You’re probably a creeper. Her: Possibly a stalker. Why do I have the overwhelming need to find this stranger who saved me and make her mine? Him: Take a chance with me. Her: This is crazy. Him: I need to see you. Her: What are we doing? Him: We’re about to find out. Her: PHOTO ATTACHED Him: PHOTO ATTACHED
About K. Webster 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: www.authorkwebster.com Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bllgoP
About J.D. Hollyfield J.D. Hollyfield is a creative designer and first-time author. When she’s not cooking, event planning, or playing around with her husband, son and three doxies, she’s relaxing with her nose in a book. With her love for romance, and her head full of book boyfriends, she was inspired to test her creative abilities and bring her own story to life. Life in a Rut, Love not Included is her first novel. Hollyfield lives in the Midwest, and is currently at work on her next book.
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Coming February 2nd
Allister Marshall is no stranger to saving the down on their luck staff at the club he runs. But the day he walks into a locked basement dungeon and his eyes rest on the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, this white knight is nearly brought to his knees. He’s a man’s man, but he’s kept his v-card waiting for ‘the one’, and now that he’s found her nothing will ever come between them. Leah Morgan grew up cloaked in riches. Only she and her sister were kept locked away until a turn of events thrusts Leah out into the world where she’s a lamb primed for lions to pounce. When Allister saves her from the clutches of those sworn to care for her, she finds herself swept away by this monster of a man who is obsessed with making sure the rest of her life is filled with happiness and a few million orgasms. Can this brute of a virgin man manage to overcome sweet Leah’s distrust of nearly everyone? When Leah once again disappears, Allister comes to grips with just how far he will go to bring home what is his. Only, will the forces at work to tear Leah from her first glimpse of true happiness be more than Allister can overcome? Authors Note: The Forever Collection is all virgins, love-at-first-sight, indulgent fantasy. Each book a standalone. It’s fall hard, fall fast and get right to the sticky bits. If you want to lose yourself for a while with a happily ever after, no cheating and all wrapped up with an obsessed, alpha hero who will stop at nothing to make babies with his woman, then step inside, it’s steamy. 
Dani Wyatt loves her alpha men; make them military, cowboys, MMA -- any uber alpha with a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Receive a free exclusive unpublished title when you join Dani's private readers group for updates, free chapters and discounts.
She's a 40 something regular lady who just happens to love badass alpha males who pull your hair and love their women with a lethal passion.
When she's not writing (which is not often) she is probably laughing about some irony (like A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), riding her horse, wondering why The Walking Dead can't have a new episode every night, or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.
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December 2018
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