Archive | July 13, 2015

Omega &Love by K. Webster Cover Reveal & Rafflecopter giveaway 7/13/15

OmegaLoveReveal

Omega & Love
by K Webster
Alpha & Omega #2
Publication Date: July 30, 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Paranormal, Romance

Omega and Love FRONT

They now call me a Leviathan. A monster.

And maybe I am.

I know one soul who believes that with every part of his being.

If only he knew the truth.

If only I could make him see that I’m more than the surface of lies I spin. That I’m more than someone out for their own gain. I wish he could see—know who I was before all of this. The person I desperately cling on to that is still inside of me. The person I must protect.

One day I hope to hand him the key to the fortress that is my heart.

I just hope he doesn’t give up on Love and throw it all away…

***
I hate Love.
***

I’m looking at her.

There’s an innocence to her that she keeps carefully hidden.

But I see it.

Inside of her is someone that she has revealed to no one.

Not even me when I once thought we were in love.

Of course now I know that was all a farce but still, she hid that even from me.

But not now—now, I see more.

Add to Goodreads99 cent sale and cover reveal graphicAlpha & Omega will be $0.99 until 7/17Amazon US • Amazon UK • B&Nteaser 1teaser battle

About K Webster

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.

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Love the way you lie by Skye Warren Sales Blitz &Rafflecopter giveaway 7/13/15

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Book Title: Love the Way You Lie
Author: Skye Warren
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: March 12, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

A dark romance about the lies that lead us down…

I’ll do anything to get safe, even if that means working at the scariest club in town.

I’ll do anything to stay hidden, even if it means taking off my clothes for strangers.

I’ll do anything to be free. Except give him up. When he looks at me, I forget why I can’t have him. He’s beautiful and scarred. His body fits mine, filling the places where I’m hollow, rough where I am soft.

He’s the one man who wants to help, but he has his own agenda. He has questions I can’t answer. What are you afraid of?

You.

Praise

“It’s gritty, edgy, and sexy, served to you in the well-written, absorbing style that Skye is so talented at delivering. I can’t wait to get my hands on the rest of the Stripped series.” – Shameless Book Club

 

“I LOVED it! Instantly compelling and thrillingly unpredictable, Honor and Kip’s story delivers a jagged, layered and enthralling adventure that weaves darkness and light with precision and purpose.” – the lusty literate

 

“Wow! I found Love the Way You Lie to be a dark, edgy and suspenseful romance. It’s also addictive, sexy and downright dirty (in the best possible way)!” – Tina, A Reader’s Review Blog

 

“It’s dark, mysterious, sexy, and I loved every page of it! There were twists and turns that I never saw coming! I love when an author is able to keep me guessing until the very end of the book.” – Book Fancy Book Blog

 

“Love The Way You Lie was heartwarming, exhilarating and tantalizing with just the right tinge of darkness.” – Warhawke’s Vault

excerpt

In the first moments onstage, I’m always blinded.

The bright lights, the smoke. The wall of sound that feels almost tangible, as if it’s trying to keep me out, push me back, protect me from what’s going to happen next. I’m used to the dancing and the catcalls and the reaching, grabbing hands—as much as I can be. But I’m never quite used to this moment, being blinded, feeling small.

I reach for the pole and find it, swinging my body around so the gauzy scrap of fabric flies up, giving the men near the stage a view of my ass. I still can’t quite make anything out. There are dark spots in my vision.

The smile’s not even a lie, not really. It’s a prop, like the four-inch heels and the wings that snap as I drop them to the stage.

Broken.

A few people clap from the back.

Now all that’s left is the thin satin fabric. I grip the pole and head into my routine, wrapping around, sliding off, and starting all over again. I lose myself in the physicality of it, going into the zone as if I were running a marathon. This is the best part, reveling in the burn of my muscles, the slide of the metal pole against my skin and the cold, angry rhythm of the song. It’s not like ballet, but it’s still a routine. Something solid, when very few things in my life are solid.

I finish on the pole and begin to work the stage, moving around so I can collect tips. I can see again, just barely, making out shadowy silhouettes in the chairs.

Not many.

There’s a regular on one side. I recognize him. Charlie. He tosses a five-dollar bill on the stage, and I bend down long and slow to pick it up. He gets a wink and a shimmy for his donation. As I’m straightening, I spot another man on the other side of the stage.

His posture is slouched, one leg kicked out, the other under his chair, but somehow I can tell he isn’t really relaxed. There’s tension in the long lines of his body. There’s power.

And that makes me nervous.

I spin away and shake my shit for the opposite side of the room, even though there’s barely anyone there. It’s only a matter of time before I need to face him again. But I don’t need to look at him. They don’t pay me to look them in the eye.

Still I can’t help but notice his leather boots and padded jacket. Did he ride a motorcycle? It seems like that kind of leather, the tough kind. Meant to withstand weather. Meant to protect the body from impact.

The song’s coming to a close, my routine is coming to an end and I’m glad about that. Something about this guy is throwing me off. Nothing noticeable. My feet and hands and knowing smile still land everywhere they need to. Muscle memory and all that. But I don’t like the way he watches me.

There’s patience in the way he watches me. And patience implies waiting.

It implies planning.

I reach back and unclasp my bra. I use one hand to cover my breasts while I toss the bra to the back of the stage. I pretend to be shy for a few seconds, and suddenly I feel shy too. Like I’m doing more than showing my breasts to strangers. I’m showing him. And as I stand there, hand cupping my breasts, breath coming fast, I feel his patience like a hot flame.

This time I do miss the beat. I let go on the next one, though, and my breasts are free, bared to the smoky air and the hungry eyes. There are a few whistles from around the room. Charlie holds up another five-dollar bill. I sway over to him and cock my hip, letting him shove the bill into my thong, feeling his hot, damp breath against my breast. He gets close but doesn’t touch. That’s Charlie. He tips and follows the rules, the best kind of customer.

I don’t even glance at the other side of the room. If the new guy is holding up a tip, I don’t even care. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who follows rules. I don’t know why I’m even thinking about him or letting him affect me. Maybe my run-in with Blue made me more skittish than I’d realized.

All I have left is my finale on the pole. I can get through this.

This part isn’t as physically strenuous as before. Or as long. All I really need to do is grind up against the pole, front and back, emphasizing my newly naked breasts, pretending to fuck.

That’s what I’m doing when I feel it. Feel him.

I’m a practical girl. I have to be. But there’s a feeling I get, a prickle on the back of my neck, a churning in my gut, a warning bell in my head when I’m near one of them. Near a cop. My eyes scan the back of the room, but all I can see are shadows. Is there a cop waiting to bust someone? A raid about to go down?

My gaze lands on the guy near the stage. Him? He doesn’t look like a cop. He doesn’t feel like a cop. But I don’t trust looks or feelings. All I can trust is the alarm blaring in my head: get out, get out, get out.

I can barely suck in enough air. There’s only smoke and rising panic. Blood races through me, speeding up my movements. A cop. I feel it like some kind of sixth sense.

Maybe he feels my intuition about him, because he leans forward in his seat.

In one heart-stopping moment, my eyes meet his. I can see his face then, drawn from charcoal shadows.

Beautiful, his lips say. All I can hear is the song.

I’m not even on beat anymore, and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because there’s a cop here and I have to get out. Even if my intuition is wrong, it’s better to get out. Safer.

I’ll never be safe.

The last note calls for a curtsy—a sexy, mocking movement I choreographed into my routine. Like the one I’d do at the end of a ballet recital but made vulgar. I barely manage it this time, a rough jerk of my head and shoulders. Then I’m gone, off the stage, running down the hallway. I’m supposed to work the floor next, see who wants a lap dance or another drink, but I can’t do that. I head for the dressing room and throw on a T-shirt and sweatpants. I’ll tell them I feel sick and have to leave early. They won’t be happy and I’ll probably have to pay for it with my tips, but they won’t want me throwing up on the customers either.

I run for the door and almost slam into Blue.

He’s standing in the hallway again. Not slouching this time. There’s a new alertness to his stare. And something else—amusement.

“Going somewhere?” he asks.

“I have to… My stomach hurts. I feel sick.” I step close, praying he’ll move aside.

He reaches up to trace my cheek. “Aww, should I call the doctor?” His hand clamps down on my shoulder. “I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

I grip my bag tight to my chest, trying to ignore the threat in his words. And the threat in his grip. I really do feel sick now, but throwing up on him is definitely not going to help the situation. “Please, I need to leave. It’s serious. I’ll make it up later.”

He’ll know what I’m saying. That I’ll make it up to him personally. I’m just desperate enough to promise that. Desperate enough to promise him anything. And he’s harassed me long enough that I know it’s a decent prize. I’m sure he’ll make it extra humiliating, but I’m desperate enough for that too.

“Please let me go.” The words come out pained, my voice thin. It feels a little like my body is collapsing in on itself, steel beams bending together, something crushing me from the outside.

Regret flashes over his face, whether for refusing my offer or forcing me that low. But this time he doesn’t let me go. “There’s a customer asking for you. He wants a dance.”

Teasers

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Meet the Author

Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of dark romantic fiction. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

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Soulless by Franca Storm Book Blitz & Rafflecopter giveaway 7/13/15

SoullessBlitz

Soulless
by Franca Storm
Black Thorns #2
Publication Date: July 13, 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

Blitz: Soulless by Franca Storm
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Determined to get his girl back, Ax sets a plan in motion. It’s a plan that has him heading down a dark road—one he might not make it back from. Trying to protect the club, he keeps it a secret and goes it alone.

But all bets are off when Dealer finds out and an old enemy comes gunning for Black Thorns.

Roxana’s attempt at a new life comes crashing down when Ax tracks her down and puts her under club protection. Desperate need and desire reignites between them instantly and, before long, they find themselves right back where they started.

But will it be different this time?

Will they manage to overcome everything trying to tear them apart?

Killing_me

 

Patience

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Neil “Ax” Barron walked away from the Black Thorns MC two years ago. Now he’s back as Vice President for one reason: to take out the President of ruthless rival club, the Devil’s Mavericks. A sadistic, soulless man who is also his father. Ax has his orders to carry out his mission covertly so Black Thorns isn’t thrust into open war. But when he meets his contact—a ball-busting, smart-mouthed woman—he quickly realizes he’s got his work cut out for him.

Roxana James hates bikers and a relationship is the last thing she wants. Settling down is her worst nightmare. No man will tame her! She’s content on her own and she’s done well for herself. Until a rough, dirty-talking biker turns her world upside down. He challenges everything she’s ever known.

Together they break down one another’s walls. Two opposites really do attract. The fiery connection between them quickly evolves into much more, despite resistance from them both.

But with so many forces aligned against them and Rox determined not to become part of Ax’s club life, is there really a place for their love? Or will the sacrifices needed for them to be together, come at too high a price?

 

About Franca Storm

Franca was born in Surrey, England and currently lives in Niagara Falls, Canada with her husband and their labrador, Rocky.

She is a long-time lover of erotica and romance novels, especially those with sexy-as-sin alpha males. She decided to try her hand at writing her own and writing romance is now her obsession and the perfect way to put her dirty mind to good use!

Her writing spans many different sub-genres of romance: contemporary, biker romance, paranormal romance, new adult, romantic erotica and romance suspense. She’s got a ton of stories to tell and many more works up her sleeve.

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