Thursday, October 29, 2015

Wreck by Heather C. Leigh

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Meet Hawke and Abby in the newest standalone in the Sphere of Irony Series. 

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Blurb

Hawke Evans is the drummer for the Grammy winning Sphere of Irony. The quiet, tattooed and pierced hottie behind a pair of geek chic glasses is hiding a seriously troubled adrenaline junkie with a death wish.

Abby Kessler is studying psychology at UCLA. Her desire to help those fighting mental illness stems from a life-changing incident in her past.

When Abby meets Hawke backstage at a local club, she’s instantly attracted to his bad boy good looks. But when she discovers the damaged man beneath the beautiful exterior, she’s compelled to make up for past mistakes.

How long will it take for Hawke to realize his reckless behavior isn’t only endangering him, but the hearts of those around him? How long will it take for Abby to see that she can’t help someone who has no desire to be fixed? 

***This is book 4 in the Sphere of Irony Series. It can be read as a standalone. This is a spin-off of the Famous Series*** 

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Excerpt

“Go away, Evans. I’m talking this nice girl.” This prick has no idea how close I am to snapping or what Abby means to me. The way Brad says ‘girl’, combined with the obvious ‘fuck off so I can get laid’ look in his eyes, seals Brad’s fate.

Blinded by rage, I pull back my arm and drill my fist right into his smug face.

“Fuck!” Brad cries out. He touches his mouth to find his lip split open and bleeding.

“Oh my god, Hawke! What is your problem?” Abby shouts. I move to punch the bastard again, but Abby steps between us, grabbing my hand. “Stop!”

“Move,” I hiss, shooting a murderous glare over Abby’s shoulder at Brad, who is still holding his hand up to his mouth.

The rest of the room has gone silent, everyone stopping to stare at the disruption, eager to watch a good fight. Dax must have either left or is holed up in his room with Kate, otherwise he’d be right in the middle of things, using his enormous muscles and underground fighting skills to put an end to the confrontation.

“Don’t,” Abby begs, forcing me to look at her by stepping into my line of sight. When I meet her eyes, shimmering with tears and betrayal, all of the rage I felt for Brad turns into frustration with Abby for drinking and putting herself in the situation with Brad to begin with.

“Leave,” I bark at Brad, pointing at the front door. Before she can protest, I grab Abby’s wrist and haul her to my room. She stumbles behind me on her high heels. Using my foot, I slam the door shut with a bang.

“Ouch, Hawke!” Abby twists out of my hold, turning to glare at me. “What is your problem?”

“My problem?” I shout. “I’m not the one getting drunk and letting Brad piece-of-shit Vargas touch my ass!”

Her mouth drops open and her eyes bulge. “Are you kidding me right now?”

I step forward, crowding her in a corner of the tiny space I share with Gavin. “Oh, I’m far from fucking kidding, Abby. He’s a slimy douchebag who wants nothing more than to get you drunk and fuck you.”

“So what? It’s none of your business who I sleep with!” Abby puts her hands on her hips and scowls. It’s almost adorable, until she continues her rant, going straight for the jugular. “I don’t say anything about the whores you bang every night!”

Anger, shame, raging desire—they all battle inside my chest, clashing until they detonate in a huge fireball of uncontrollable emotions. “I don’t want them!” I shout, my hands going to my hair, fisting huge hunks.

I step closer, Abby’s back now pressed against the bathroom door. I lean forward, dropping my hands to cage her in on either side of her head. Her breathing picks up and I drop my gaze to drag up her sinful body, ending at her heart-stopping eyes. “Don’t you get it, Abby?” My voice lowers as I finally confess what I’ve held inside for too long. “I don’t want Brad touching you. I don’t want anyone touching you! I want you. You’re mine.”

Abby gasps, either in shock at my declaration, or with desire. I don’t wait to find out because at that moment, I lean closer, letting my hips press against hers so she can feel exactly how much I want her. Abby’s eyes fall to my mouth, her thick lashes fluttering against flushed skin. When her pink tongue darts out to lick her lips, any remaining willpower I possessed dissolves into nothingness.

I tilt my head to see if that mouth tastes as sweet as she smells, but Abby holds me back with a hand to my chest. A fist squeezes around my heart. Of course she doesn’t want me. Why would she? I’m a fucked up mess and she knows it.

Abby inhales a shaky breath, drawing my attention back to her eyes once more. “What’s your real name?” she asks.

“What?” I pull my brows together.

“Your real name. I… I don’t want my first time to be with someone whose name I don’t know,” she whispers, her cheeks blazing red with embarrassment.

I huff out a laugh. “Henry. It’s Henry Walker Evans.”

“Like Gavin Walker?”

I shake my head. “No relation.”

“Henry,” she says, smiling as she trails her trembling fingers up my chest, over my collarbone, to wrap around the back of my neck. “Kiss me, Henry.”

Without hesitation, I lift my hands from the door to cup her flushed cheeks, letting my full weight press against her body. Abby’s tongue darts out to wet her lips, sending a rush of blood straight to my groin. I groan in pleasure. “God, I’ve been wanting to do this forever.” Before she can answer, I lean in and our mouths connect.

Abby melts against the door, her muscles going limp, allowing me to control the kiss. When I slide my tongue against the seam of her lips, she lets out a throaty moan that vibrates all the way to my toes. Her mouth parts on a soft exhale, the sound sending little sparks of electricity dancing across my skin. I’m so turned on, so desperate to taste and feel every part of her, that my brain turns off and instinct takes over. Primal, animal instinct to possess, to claim, to make her mine.

I step forward, putting one foot between hers to kick her feet apart. Once there’s enough room to maneuver, I push my stiff dick against the junction of her thighs. Abby gasps and comes to life. The girl who was content to be passively carried along through our kiss, threads her fingers through my hair and grips tight. The streak of pain across my scalp shreds my last vestiges of rational thought.

Panting, I break away, dizzily gulping down oxygen. “Off. Now.” I grab the hem of her silky tank top and yank it over her head, revealing two perfect, round breasts supported by a lacy white bra. “Fuck.” I palm my hard-on through my way too tight jeans, the ache nearly unbearable.

Abby stares at me, her eyes wild, pupils dilated. Desire has put crimson streaks on her cheekbones and turned her throat and chest a deep shade of pink. “Your turn,” she says, clawing at the bottom of my own T-shirt. I reach over my head to pull it off, but hesitate when my fingers grip the material.

The scars. I’ve haven’t had sex with anyone without a shirt on since the accident, usually not even getting my pants all the way off. It’s always been quick backroom hook-ups or blow jobs. My pulse races, fear overtaking desire, pricking my skin uncomfortably.

“Henry.” Abby caresses my cheek, her thumb brushing across the silver stud in my bottom lip. “I don’t care. I want you, all of you. You’re perfect the way you are.”

Our eyes lock, and I know she’s telling the truth. This is Abby. I can trust her. She skims her hands down my ribcage, hooking her fingers into the waist of my jeans. In a bold move, Abby tugs me forward and arches her back off the door, grinding against my aching cock.

I nod, knowing right now, I’ll give her whatever she wants. I fist the collar of the shirt and pull it over my head, balling it up in my hands between us, using it as my final shield. Without breaking eye contact, Abby covers my hands with her own and slowly removes my fingers, taking the shirt from me. She tosses it to the ground, blue eyes still fixed on mine. Abby slides her hands around my waist and I flinch.

“Don’t be afraid,” she murmurs, skimming her hands up my torso, her fingers exploring every inch. They brush across my abs to my chest, where she gently flicks her thumbs across my nipples. “I’m not. I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Jesus, Abby.” My head lolls back from the pleasure of her touch.

Abby winds her hands behind my head and pulls my mouth back to hers. Our tongues slide together, wet and hot and so fucking perfect. She stops to catch her breath, fumbling with the button on her own jeans. As I stare, entranced, Abby shoves down her pants and underwear and reaches behind her to unsnap her bra, letting it slide down her arms to the floor. She’s so beautiful, I stop breathing to stare at her naked body, snapping out of it only when she speaks. “Make love to me, Henry.”

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Incite (Book One) The Sphere of Irony Series FREE

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Strike (Book Two) The Sphere of Irony Series

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About the Author:

Heather C Leigh

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Heather C. Leigh is the author of the Amazon best selling Famous series. She likes to write about the 'dark' side of fame. The part that the public doesn't get to see, how difficult it is to live in a fishbowl and how that affects relationships.

Heather was born and raised in New England and currently lives outside Atlanta, GA with her husband, 2 kids, and French Bulldog, Shelby.

She loves the Red Sox, the Patriots, and anything chocolate (but not white chocolate, everyone knows it's not real chocolate so it doesn't count) and has left explicit instructions in her will to have her ashes snuck into Fenway Park and sneakily sprinkled all over while her family enjoys beer, hot dogs, and a wicked good time.

Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads 

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Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Lux by Courtney Cole

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The dramatic series finale to Courtney Cole's bestselling Nocte trilogy!

CourtneyCole-Lux-Cover-250pxMy name is Calla Price and I’m broken.

My pieces are all around me, floating on the wind, even as I desperately try to grasp them.

Who is dead? Alive? Insane?

What is the truth?

I don’t know.

I do know this: The darkness is strangling me. With every breath, I choke on another lie.

My mind has protected me, but that shield will soon be lowered.

All will be revealed.
Every answer to every question.

It’s all been leading to this.

Don’t be afraid.
Be terrified.
Series reading order: Nocte (#1), Verum (#2), Initium (#2.5), Lux (#3).
CourtneyCole-Headshot250pxCourtney Cole is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling novelist who would rather write than eat chocolate. She holds a Bachelor's degree in Business, but no amount of working in the corporate world could quell her urge to write.

Courtney was born and raised in Kansas, home of incredibly friendly people and the most horrendous weather on the planet. Because summer days were so hot, she grew up reading stacks of books... and when she didn't like the ending, she wrote her own.

Courtney has relocated to Florida where she writes beneath palm trees. To learn more about her, please visit her website. To sign up for her newsletter and receive exclusive sneak peeks and super-fan perks, click here.

Love Hate Relationship by Jessica Prince

Love Hate Relationship by Jessica Prince ~ Release Blitz Info Doc

Love Hate Relationship

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24481690-love-hate-relationship

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Jessica Prince

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 ðŸ’” LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP BY JESSICA PRINCE IS NOW AVAILABLE ðŸ’”❤

People say that sometimes the line between love and hate is thin. What they don’t tell you is that sometimes it’s invisible.#LoveHateRelationship by Author Jessica Prince is Now Available! #1Click this Contemporary RomCom today!

SYNOPSIS: 

Rowan Locklaine gave his heart to one woman a long time ago and has no desire to go through that kind of torture ever again. His painful past has turned him cold and heartless. Women serve only one purpose as far as he’s concerned, and relationships are nothing but a waste of time and energy. When the mouthy little blonde, Navie Collins, is hired as his personal assistant, he finds his world turned upside down. And against his better judgment, he can’t seem to stop thinking about her.

Navie Collins has spent years convinced she’s not good enough, that no one could possibly want her. Growing up the way she did helped to thicken her skin, so when she walks into a job interview and meets the temperamental, foul-mouthed, best-selling author Rowan Locklaine, she’s all too happy to put him in his place.

Rowan and Navie are convinced they hate each other. But as time passes and the attraction between them begins to grow, these two stubborn, strong-willed people have a life changing decision to make. Can they move beyond their pain for a chance at something better, or are they destined to let their pasts dictate their future?

**Love Hate Relationship is a STANDALONE Contemporary Romance that follows characters introduced in Shrinking Violet. It is not necessary to read Shrinking Violet first**

EXCERPT: 

“Hello?”

“I need you over here right now.”

Temporarily stunned, I stood frozen in place until realization hit me. “Rowan?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” he asked in a detached, insulting tone that instantly got my hackles up.

“People call me!” I insisted childishly. I hated how my maturity nosedived whenever it came to my boss.

“If you say so. I need you to get over here ASAP.”

There was a strong possibility I let out a rather indelicate snort at his typical assholery. “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll be right there!” I answered, my voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Do you always have to be so damn difficult?” he grunted

“Do you always have to be such a raging hemorrhoid?” I fired back. I would have sworn I heard him choke on a laugh if I thought the man was capable of laughter. Rowan Locklaine was more likely to suck the souls from small children than to laugh.

“Did you really just call me a raging hemorrhoid?”

Was that humor in his voice? Couldn’t be. The Devil doesn’t have a sense of humor.

“If the shoe fits…or in your case, whatever Satan wears on his feet. It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday night, Rowan. Have your latest conquest run whatever bullshit errand you need taken care of. I’m off the clock and not required to be nice to you.”

“This is you being nice?” he asked indignantly, causing me to roll my eyes.

“Hanging up now.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” he hollered through the phone line just as I was about to disconnect. Reluctantly, I held the phone back up to my ear. “Look.” He huffed out a loud breath. “I’m…I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to insult you…Navie? You still there?” he asked when I remained silent for several seconds after his apology.

“The world is coming to an end, isn’t it? It’s the zombie apocalypse. I’m not prepared! I haven’t taken any crossbow lessons yet!”

“You’re friggin’ hilarious,” he deadpanned.

I didn’t bother to stifle my laughter. “I like to think so.”

I listened as he inhaled deeply. “Please, I really need your help. I know it’s your day off, but it’s an emergency. I’ll even make sure Lauren pays you time and a half. Can you just please get here as fast as you can?”

“Rowan.” I sighed in exasperation. “It’s at least a twenty-minute train ride to your place. It’s not like I can just snap my fingers and make myself appear on your doorstep. You’re on the Upper East Side and I’m in Murray Hill.”

“I’ll pay for a cab.”

“Fine,” I grumbled dramatically. “But I’m not changing out of my comfy clothes. And I want double-time, not time and a half.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you want. Just get here.”

At the unease in his voice, I began to worry a little about what was so important that I had to rush over to his apartment on a Saturday night. Not wanting to hesitate in the event it was something major, I slipped on a pair of bright pink flip-flops, pulled a gray hoodie on over my ‘That’s what she said’ t-shirt, and headed for the door. The only change I was willing to make before walking out the door was trading in my yellow rubber ducky pajama pants for a pair of plain black leggings.

By the time my cab pulled up in front of Rowan’s building, he was already standing out front waiting for me. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk, he leaned in and paid the driver before rising to his full height and turning my way. His hair was standing on ends, as if he’d been running his hands through it anxiously, and I couldn’t help but notice how amazing his body looked in just a plain white tee and another pair of athletic shorts. Man, it really was a crying shame he was such a mega-douche. Women around the world would line up just for a chance to stare at him uninterrupted for five minutes.

Navie,” Rowan’s rumbly voice called out, shaking me back into reality. When my vision came back into focus, I noticed Rowan was standing much closer than he had been just a second before. When had that happened?

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were coming.” His typically chilly blue gaze warmed just a bit as a cocky smirk spread over his lips. “You were just checking me out, weren’t you?”

Oh, hell, I thought with a huge roll of my eyes.

“You were, admit it. You didn’t hear what I was saying because you were too busy checking me out. It’s okay, everyone does it.”

“And then your mouth opens and the fantasy’s ruined,” I responded dryly with a roll of my eyes as I shoved past him. “Let’s get this over with. Too long in your presence and the desire to cause bodily harm becomes too overwhelming to ignore.”

“You know,” he started as we stepped into the elevator leading up to his floor. “I had no idea you were so…feisty. Gotta say, I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, goody. My purpose in life has been accomplished. I can die happy now.”

Luckily, the doors chose to open at that moment, saving me from whatever smartass comment Rowan had in return.

Purchase LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP At:
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Free On Kindle Unlimited

Title: Love Hate Relationship
Author: Jessica Prince
Genre: Contemporary, Romantic Comedy

 

People say that sometimes the line between love and hate is thin. What they don’t tell you is that sometimes it’s invisible.

Rowan Locklaine gave his heart to one woman a long time ago and has no desire to go through that kind of torture ever again. His painful past has turned him cold and heartless. Women serve only one purpose as far as he’s concerned, and relationships are nothing but a waste of time and energy. When the mouthy little blonde, Navie Collins, is hired as his personal assistant, he finds his world turned upside down. And against his better judgment, he can’t seem to stop thinking about her.

Navie Collins has spent years convinced she’s not good enough, that no one could possibly want her. Growing up the way she did helped to thicken her skin, so when she walks into a job interview and meets the temperamental, foul-mouthed, best-selling author Rowan Locklaine, she’s all too happy to put him in his place.

Rowan and Navie are convinced they hate each other. But as time passes and the attraction between them begins to grow, these two stubborn, strong-willed people have a life changing decision to make. Can they move beyond their pain for a chance at something better, or are they destined to let their pasts dictate their future?

**Love Hate Relationship is a STANDALONE Contemporary Romance that follows characters introduced in Shrinking Violet. It is not necessary to read Shrinking Violet first**

Amazon

Free on Kindle Unlimited!

 

“Hello?”

“I need you over here right now.”

Temporarily stunned, I stood frozen in place until realization hit me. “Rowan?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” he asked in a detached, insulting tone that instantly got my hackles up.

“People call me!” I insisted childishly. I hated how my maturity nosedived whenever it came to my boss.

“If you say so. I need you to get over here ASAP.”

There was a strong possibility I let out a rather indelicate snort at his typical assholery. “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll be right there!” I answered, my voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Do you always have to be so damn difficult?” he grunted

“Do you always have to be such a raging hemorrhoid?” I fired back. I would have sworn I heard him choke on a laugh if I thought the man was capable of laughter. Rowan Locklaine was more likely to suck the souls from small children than to laugh.

“Did you really just call me a raging hemorrhoid?”

Was that humor in his voice? Couldn’t be. The Devil doesn’t have a sense of humor.

“If the shoe fits…or in your case, whatever Satan wears on his feet. It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday night, Rowan. Have your latest conquest run whatever bullshit errand you need taken care of. I’m off the clock and not required to be nice to you.”

“This is you being nice?” he asked indignantly, causing me to roll my eyes.

“Hanging up now.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” he hollered through the phone line just as I was about to disconnect. Reluctantly, I held the phone back up to my ear. “Look.” He huffed out a loud breath. “I’m…I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to insult you…Navie? You still there?” he asked when I remained silent for several seconds after his apology.

“The world is coming to an end, isn’t it? It’s the zombie apocalypse. I’m not prepared! I haven’t taken any crossbow lessons yet!”

“You’re friggin’ hilarious,” he deadpanned.

I didn’t bother to stifle my laughter. “I like to think so.”

I listened as he inhaled deeply. “Please, I really need your help. I know it’s your day off, but it’s an emergency. I’ll even make sure Lauren pays you time and a half. Can you just please get here as fast as you can?”

“Rowan.” I sighed in exasperation. “It’s at least a twenty-minute train ride to your place. It’s not like I can just snap my fingers and make myself appear on your doorstep. You’re on the Upper East Side and I’m in Murray Hill.”

“I’ll pay for a cab.”

“Fine,” I grumbled dramatically. “But I’m not changing out of my comfy clothes. And I want double-time, not time and a half.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you want. Just get here.”

At the unease in his voice, I began to worry a little about what was so important that I had to rush over to his apartment on a Saturday night. Not wanting to hesitate in the event it was something major, I slipped on a pair of bright pink flip-flops, pulled a gray hoodie on over my ‘That’s what she said’ t-shirt, and headed for the door. The only change I was willing to make before walking out the door was trading in my yellow rubber ducky pajama pants for a pair of plain black leggings.

By the time my cab pulled up in front of Rowan’s building, he was already standing out front waiting for me. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk, he leaned in and paid the driver before rising to his full height and turning my way. His hair was standing on ends, as if he’d been running his hands through it anxiously, and I couldn’t help but notice how amazing his body looked in just a plain white tee and another pair of athletic shorts. Man, it really was a crying shame he was such a mega-douche. Women around the world would line up just for a chance to stare at him uninterrupted for five minutes.

Navie,” Rowan’s rumbly voice called out, shaking me back into reality. When my vision came back into focus, I noticed Rowan was standing much closer than he had been just a second before. When had that happened?

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were coming.” His typically chilly blue gaze warmed just a bit as a cocky smirk spread over his lips. “You were just checking me out, weren’t you?”

Oh, hell, I thought with a huge roll of my eyes.

“You were, admit it. You didn’t hear what I was saying because you were too busy checking me out. It’s okay, everyone does it.”

“And then your mouth opens and the fantasy’s ruined,” I responded dryly with a roll of my eyes as I shoved past him. “Let’s get this over with. Too long in your presence and the desire to cause bodily harm becomes too overwhelming to ignore.”

“You know,” he started as we stepped into the elevator leading up to his floor. “I had no idea you were so…feisty. Gotta say, I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, goody. My purpose in life has been accomplished. I can die happy now.”

Luckily, the doors chose to open at that moment, saving me from whatever smartass comment Rowan had in return.

 

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Born and raised around Houston Texas, Jessica spent most of her life complaining about the heat, humidity, and all around pain in the ass weather. It was only as an adult that she quickly realized the cost of living in Houston made up for not being able to breathe when she stepped outside. That’s why God created central air, after all.

Jessica is the mother of a perfect little boy–she refuses to accept that he inherited her attitude and sarcastic nature no matter what her husband says.

In addition to being a wife and mom, she’s also a wino, a coffee addict, and an avid lover of all types of books–romances still being her all time favs. Her husband likes to claim that reading is her obsession but she just says it’s a passion…there’s a difference. Not that she’d expect a boy to understand.

Jessica has been writing since she was a little girl, but thankfully grew out of drawing her own pictures for her stories before ever publishing her first book. Because an artist she is not.

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