ASSASSIN P.I.
Author: Elizabeth Janette
Official genre of book: Romantic Suspense
Cover Designer: Ramona Lockwood @ Soulmate Publishing
Editor: Deborah Gilbert @ Soulmate Publishing
Cover Designer: Ramona Lockwood @ Soulmate Publishing
Editor: Deborah Gilbert @ Soulmate Publishing
For a Private Eye like Jack Gaines, a man with old-fashioned morals and a wicked thirst for justice, being paid to eliminate bad guys has its perks. Nearly getting killed isn’t one of them. It’s enough to make Jack contemplate retirement in the Bahamas. But that’s before his ex-lover graces his doorway. One kiss is all it takes for Jack to postpone retirement and agree to take on her case: find and assassinate her husband’s killer.
It’s not the corrupt police force that he’s afraid of. Or the Fed hot on his heels. It’s her. She’s the only one with the power to bring him to his knees. And Angie’s harboring a deadly vendetta that threatens to destroy him like a bullet to the heart. Getting out of this mess (preferably alive) will take more than just his wits, good looks, and an arsenal of gumshoe novels.
Angie broke off the kiss and pushed away from him. “What are you doing, Jack?”
He grabbed her by the wrist and brought her back into his arms. “Making up for lost time. Doing what I should have done years ago.”
“You can’t go back and change the past, Jack. You broke my heart once. I won’t let it happen again.”
She was right, but when he was close to her, thinking straight was near impossible. There were a million and one reasons why he should walk away from her, from this case. He headed for the door and yanked it open.
She didn’t budge.
“You’re right. You should leave.” It would kill him to see her walk out his door again, but it was the gentlemanly thing to do. He was giving her an out. One she would take if she were smart.
Angie lifted her chin defiantly. “Not until we talk.”
The tension was palpable. Jack let the door close and engaged the deadbolt. “Suit yourself.”
He strode across the room, pinning Angie to the wall. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he tugged her head back, leaving her silky neck exposed. God, how long had it been since he’d last been with a woman as tantalizing as her? He took a deep breath in. Her perfume beckoned him to take a taste, to throw caution to the wind and give in.
“I warned you. I’m not in the mood to be played with.” Tonight wasn’t about making excuses, or even about making love. It was about sheer lust. Trying to scratch an itch that had lain dormant for too many years. Far too many years.
Throughout the day, Elizabeth Janette wears many hats: soccer mom, teacher, hula dancer, photographer, and romance writer. When she's not drafting fun lesson plans, she's dreaming up murder mysteries and love affairs to write about. Elizabeth's stories have earned her recognition as a finalist in the 2011 Dixie First Chapter contest and a finalist in the Indiana Golden Opportunity contest. Her debut novel, Redemption For Liars, was nominated as a finalist in the Romantic Suspense category as well as the Best First Book category for the 2014 National Excellence for Romantic Fiction Award.
Book Title: Mastered by the CEO
Author: Opal Carew
Genre: Erotic Romance (BDSM) (Office)
Release Date: April 5th, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
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She insists she can change, that she’ll do exactly as she’s told. But becoming my submissive for a week will prove to her it will never work. I just hope I can handle losing her again after I experience the sweetness of her submission...
King Taylor stood in the doorway leading to a hall which she assumed lead to the bathroom. And probably a bedroom.
She rose to her feet, her stomach clenching.
God, if King was the one who’d bought Brenier Electronics, then she might as well walk out the door right now. He was never going to keep her on. Not after their history.
“You know Ms. Clark?” Mr. Baird asked in surprise.
“Yes,” King said as he strolled into the room. “She used to work for me.”
Baird’s gaze flickered to her, his bravado fading. Clearly, he didn’t know whether to be worried or not. If she was in King’s favor, he must worry that she would use her influence to make it worse for him.
He had nothing to worry about there.
“Baird, we have a lot to do. I suggest you get back to your management team and start things in motion. In the meantime, Ms. Clark and I will have a chat.”
“Of course, sir,” Mr. Baird blustered as he stood up and gathered his notes, then tucked them into his briefcase.
Rachel stood frozen as the man hurried across the suite and out the door.
Mr. King walked toward her and she felt heat wash through her. His broad shoulders and trim waist still filled out a designer suit magnificently. His dark glossy waves of hair, full and thick, framed his handsome face, accentuating his charcoal eyes that always intimidated her. Even when they’d slept together. Theirs had been a tumultuous affair, his blatant masculinity overwhelming her.
Not that he’d ever exerted any pressure on her. It was more like she’d practically thrown herself at him. It had been after a late dinner meeting, where they’d consumed a lot of wine and he’d been a gentleman, insisting he see her home. But as soon as he’d stood up to walk her to the door, fearing she’d lose the opportunity, she’d kissed him, made brave by the alcohol in her system.
He had let her down gently that night, later telling her he wouldn’t have taken advantage of her in that state. But the following Friday, he’d called her into his office at the end of the day and talked frankly to her. Telling her he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him. And that had been the start of their clandestine office romance, both of them agreeing to keep their relationship a secret.
Now as he walked toward her, she couldn’t help but remember how it had felt to be in his arms. To feel his lips on hers, demanding, taking everything she was willing to give.
Opal loves crystals, dragons, feathers, cats, pink hair, the occult, Manga artwork, Zentangle, and all that glitters. She earned a degree in Mathematics from the University of Waterloo, and spent 15 years as a software analyst before turning to her passion as a writer. She grew up in Toronto, and now lives in Ottawa with her husband and three cats. One of her sons just finished a Masters degree at Sussex University in the UK and is now pursuing a second Masters at Carleton University in Ottawa. The other son just finished his undergraduate degree at Carleton University. Yes, mom is proud!
KOBO
Ginger's Heart by Katy Regnery
Date of Publication: March 22, 2016Blurb
"I finished Ginger's Heart last night, and I am completely and utterly in love." --Mia Sheridan, NY Times bestselling author
Once upon a time there were two cousins:
one golden like the sun,
one dark like midnight,
one a protector,
one a predator,
one a Woodsman
and
one a Wolf…
both owning equal,
but different,
parts of a little girl's heart.
In this modern retelling of "Little Red Riding Hood," the woodsman and the wolf are cousins, and Little Red is the girl with whom they both fall in love.
Beautiful Ginger McHuid, daughter of Kentucky's premiere horse breeder, grows up on her family farm, best friends with Cain Wolfram, the son of her father's Stallion Manager, and Cain's cousin, Josiah Woodman, son of a local banker. Throughout their happy childhood, the three are inseparable friends, but as they mature into adults, complicated feelings threaten to destroy their long history of friendship and love.
Ginger's Heart
*****
This is a standalone novel inspired by Little Red Riding Hood. New Adult Contemporary Romance: Due to profanity and very strong sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
(The next standalone a modern fairytale novel, Don't Speak, inspired by The Little Mermaid, will be released in 2017.)
Once upon a time there were two cousins:
one golden like the sun,
one dark like midnight,
one a protector,
one a predator,
one a Woodsman
and
one a Wolf…
both owning equal,
but different,
parts of a little girl's heart.
In this modern retelling of "Little Red Riding Hood," the woodsman and the wolf are cousins, and Little Red is the girl with whom they both fall in love.
Beautiful Ginger McHuid, daughter of Kentucky's premiere horse breeder, grows up on her family farm, best friends with Cain Wolfram, the son of her father's Stallion Manager, and Cain's cousin, Josiah Woodman, son of a local banker. Throughout their happy childhood, the three are inseparable friends, but as they mature into adults, complicated feelings threaten to destroy their long history of friendship and love.
Ginger's Heart
*****
This is a standalone novel inspired by Little Red Riding Hood. New Adult Contemporary Romance: Due to profanity and very strong sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
(The next standalone a modern fairytale novel, Don't Speak, inspired by The Little Mermaid, will be released in 2017.)
Available From
Amazon (Kindle) B&N Nook Kobo iBooks Amazon (Kindle - UK) Amazon (Kindle - CA) Amazon (Kindle - AU) Google Play
About Katy Regnery
Katy Regnery, award-winning and Amazon bestselling author, started her writing career by enrolling in a short story class in January 2012. One year later, she signed her first contract for a winter romance entitled By Proxy.
The Vixen and the Vet is included in the charity anthology Hometown Heroes: Hotter Ever After, and Katy's novella "Frosted" appeared in the Jan '15 anthology, Snowy Days Steamy Nights. Additionally, Katy's short story, "The Long Way Home" appeared in the first RWA anthology (Feb '15), Premiere.
Katy lives in the relative wilds of northern Fairfield County, Connecticut, where her writing room looks out at the woods, and her husband, two young children, and two dogs create just enough cheerful chaos to remind her that the very best love stories begin at home.
Find Katy Regnery Online
Teaser
Excerpt from Chapter 12 of Ginger's Heart, a modern fairytale, by Katy Regnery. All rights reserved. Used with permission.
An hour later they stopped by the Glenn River, eight miles downriver from Ginger's house and two from the distillery where Cain had partied last night.
"We should water them," he said, reining in Thunder and dismounting with the ease of a lifelong horseman.
She reined in Heath, who nickered in protest, and grinned down at Cain who reached up for her. His hands lingered for an extra moment on her hips as she slid down the front of his body. Leaning her head back, she stared up at him, daring him to pull her closer, to kiss her, to admit that this whole "friends" thing was bullshit on fire. But, he clenched his jaw, cleared his throat and dropped his hands.
"Thanks," she murmured, her voice husky in her ears as he stared down at her, his eyes flinty and dark.
Taking Heath's reins with a grunt, he turned away from her, leading the horses to the river's edge and leaving her to follow behind. She leaned down to pick up a flat stone and skipped it across the slow moving water.
"Not bad," said Cain.
"You were always the best."
"Nah," he said. "Woodman was better."
"Nope," she countered, picking up another stone. "Woodman was good, but you were better. Remember that Fourth of July that you skipped eleven times? Eleven times. It was a record."
Satisfied that the horses were calm and drinking their fill, Cain leaned down and grabbed a rock of his own, skipping it over the dark water.
One-two-three-four-five-six-seven…
"Wow!" she said, clapping lightly. "You've still got the touch!"
He turned to her, grinning. "You always get excited about the littlest things. What's it like gettin' a kick out of everythin', Gin?"
"What's it like gettin' a kick out of nothin', Cain?" she asked, her voice full of sass.
"I'm gettin' a kick out of you right now, princess."
A charge zapped between them as the words left his mouth, and her breath hitched and held for just a moment, but she looked down and picked up another rock. She was enjoying today too much to go back to Awkwardland.
She skipped her rock, which sunk after three measly hops.
"Remember when you saved my Cabbage Patch doll from certain doom in this river?" she asked him.
He screwed up his face as her. "Wasn't me. Must have been Woodman."
"It was you!" she insisted. "Not Woodman!"
"Savin' a dolly? Please. That has Woodman written all over it. I couldn't have cared less if it drowned."
"But I cared," she said softly. "Which is why you saved it."
"Fine. Have it your way," he said, sitting down on a large rock near the water's edge.
She sighed, squatting down to wash her hands in the clear water before looking back at him. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Let Woodman take credit for all the good things?"
He shrugged, looking away from her, out at the water. "I don't."
"You just did. Twice."
He sighed, giving her a long-suffering look. "If somethin' good happened, chances were, it was Woodman's doin'."
"How do you figure?"
"He's the better man, Gin," said Cain, his eyes severe, his words deliberate.
She stood up slowly, turning her body completely to face him. "Do you really believe that?"
He looked away. "It's the truth."
"Cain. Cain, look at me." Her words didn't feel like enough so she beseeched him with her eyes too. "You're just as good a man as he is."
"Ha!" scoffed Cain, standing up and moving away from her. "Not in this life, princess."
Hosted by:
Title: Tell Me a Story
Series: The Story Series #1
Author: Tamara Lush
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: February 16, 2016
Blurb
A flirtatious reading of erotica blossoms into something deep and tender in the steamy Florida heat...
TELL ME A STORY…
Emma, a free-spirited bookstore owner in Orlando, keeps her business afloat with innovative ideas. Her most popular evening event is Story Brothel, where customers can pay writers to read aloud to them in a story-time for two, complete with cocktails. Despite the name, the event is usually tame.
But things take a steamy turn when a handsome, urbane businessman hires Emma for a session in a private cabana. Daringly, she shares with him a reading of her erotica. Soon both of them are feeling the effects … and Emma’s wondering what kind of lover is underneath his expensive suit.
Caleb may be a billionaire real estate mogul, but he’s never been captivated by a woman as he is by the lovely, quirky Emma. Her rockabilly vintage dresses make him long to strip them off and do very wicked things to her. And her refusal to share her personal life only makes him more curious.
Soon the couple are spending every available moment together. But Emma’s building is in danger of being razed out from under her bookstore … and worse, Caleb may be behind her problems. Can she trust him with her life as she does with her body? Or will the prickly walls built during her harsh past keep them apart?
Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS
Excerpt
I wanted him the second I looked into his steel-blue eyes.
“How much?” he asked. It was a sexy voice, a deep voice, and I smiled—a smile that alluded to everything but promised nothing, aware of appearing coy and knowing and not-too-eager.
I was in the mood to flirt.
Before I could answer, my friend Sarah broke in. “It’s two dollars a minute. Two dollars, one minute of reading. Half goes to charity, half goes to the writer. But you can negotiate with the writer, if you know what I mean.”
The man smiled and ran a thumb over his full bottom lip as he looked me up and down.
Sarah laughed and wiggled her dark brows. “That’s why I called it Story Brothel. It’s between the reader—” she clapped him on the shoulder “—and the writer. God, I love this. I feel like a madam. Like the Heidi Fleiss of Florida fiction.”
She reached to squeeze my arm, then leaned into me and lowered her voice playfully. “Remember: half for charity. No skimming.”
I rolled my eyes. “Like I’d do that.” Sarah stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek.
“He looks rich. Maybe he’ll pay you extra so you can save the bookstore,” she whispered.
I scowled, not wanting a reminder of work. This was my rare night out, a time when I wasn’t buried in orders or paperwork or my writing. It was when I transformed myself from serious shop owner into romance writer, like some pulp fiction superheroine. Glasses off; wild, curly hair down; blood-red lipstick staining every napkin and cocktail rim in my path.
And maybe this man’s mouth in a short while. I was long overdue for male attention. At least, that’s what I told myself as I took in his charcoal suit, his crisp white shirt, and the platinum glint of a wristwatch dial. I hadn’t been kissed in a long time—not well, at least. And not by a man this interesting looking.
An unfamiliar song came on, some Arabic-lounge groove with strong, heavy drums. It was how my heart felt against my ribcage. Sarah moved into the crowd. I kept smiling. So did he.
“Story Brothel,” he murmured in a voice so low I could barely hear the words. Because he was tall, he had to tilt his face and his gunmetal-blue eyes downward to look at me.
I shook my head dramatically and clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “You don’t seem like the type of man who’d come to an event like this.”
“I don’t?” His eyes glittered and teased. They were such a gorgeous hue that popped against his long, dark lashes. He wasn’t the most handsome man I’d ever seen, but he radiated confidence and sensuality. His features—high cheekbones, a slightly big nose, a strong jaw—wouldn’t have stood out on their own, but the combination was irresistibly masculine. Intriguing. Fuckable.
“No. And I’ve never seen you here before.”
“This isn’t a one-time only thing?”
“It’s a monthly thing, for the Orlando Literacy Council.”
“So you’re an experienced…story…?” He motioned in a half-circle with his hand, and a salacious grin crept on his face.
“Whore?” I offered with mock innocence.
“You said it. I didn’t.”
That made me giggle.
“What’s that quote about writing and prostitution?” he asked.
I tilted my head, and a grin the size of the Everglades stretched across my face. It was impossible not to react because his question surprised me. Even though I owned a bookstore, meeting well-read, hot men was a rare event in my central Florida city, which was better known as the home of a giant cartoon mouse.
“Writing is like sex. First you do it for love…”
He chimed in. “…then you do it for your friends, and then for money.”
“How much?” he asked. It was a sexy voice, a deep voice, and I smiled—a smile that alluded to everything but promised nothing, aware of appearing coy and knowing and not-too-eager.
I was in the mood to flirt.
Before I could answer, my friend Sarah broke in. “It’s two dollars a minute. Two dollars, one minute of reading. Half goes to charity, half goes to the writer. But you can negotiate with the writer, if you know what I mean.”
The man smiled and ran a thumb over his full bottom lip as he looked me up and down.
Sarah laughed and wiggled her dark brows. “That’s why I called it Story Brothel. It’s between the reader—” she clapped him on the shoulder “—and the writer. God, I love this. I feel like a madam. Like the Heidi Fleiss of Florida fiction.”
She reached to squeeze my arm, then leaned into me and lowered her voice playfully. “Remember: half for charity. No skimming.”
I rolled my eyes. “Like I’d do that.” Sarah stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek.
“He looks rich. Maybe he’ll pay you extra so you can save the bookstore,” she whispered.
I scowled, not wanting a reminder of work. This was my rare night out, a time when I wasn’t buried in orders or paperwork or my writing. It was when I transformed myself from serious shop owner into romance writer, like some pulp fiction superheroine. Glasses off; wild, curly hair down; blood-red lipstick staining every napkin and cocktail rim in my path.
And maybe this man’s mouth in a short while. I was long overdue for male attention. At least, that’s what I told myself as I took in his charcoal suit, his crisp white shirt, and the platinum glint of a wristwatch dial. I hadn’t been kissed in a long time—not well, at least. And not by a man this interesting looking.
An unfamiliar song came on, some Arabic-lounge groove with strong, heavy drums. It was how my heart felt against my ribcage. Sarah moved into the crowd. I kept smiling. So did he.
“Story Brothel,” he murmured in a voice so low I could barely hear the words. Because he was tall, he had to tilt his face and his gunmetal-blue eyes downward to look at me.
I shook my head dramatically and clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “You don’t seem like the type of man who’d come to an event like this.”
“I don’t?” His eyes glittered and teased. They were such a gorgeous hue that popped against his long, dark lashes. He wasn’t the most handsome man I’d ever seen, but he radiated confidence and sensuality. His features—high cheekbones, a slightly big nose, a strong jaw—wouldn’t have stood out on their own, but the combination was irresistibly masculine. Intriguing. Fuckable.
“No. And I’ve never seen you here before.”
“This isn’t a one-time only thing?”
“It’s a monthly thing, for the Orlando Literacy Council.”
“So you’re an experienced…story…?” He motioned in a half-circle with his hand, and a salacious grin crept on his face.
“Whore?” I offered with mock innocence.
“You said it. I didn’t.”
That made me giggle.
“What’s that quote about writing and prostitution?” he asked.
I tilted my head, and a grin the size of the Everglades stretched across my face. It was impossible not to react because his question surprised me. Even though I owned a bookstore, meeting well-read, hot men was a rare event in my central Florida city, which was better known as the home of a giant cartoon mouse.
“Writing is like sex. First you do it for love…”
He chimed in. “…then you do it for your friends, and then for money.”
Author Bio
During the day, Tamara Lush writes news as a journalist with The Associated Press. At night, she writes fictional romance tales about complicated, sexy men and the women who love them.
Her first full-length novel, HOT SHADE, was published in September 2015 with Boroughs Publishing Group. INTO THE HEAT is her second full-length novel and it’s also with Boroughs.
TELL ME A STORY is Tamara’s first novella. It’s a stand-alone story with a happy-for-now ending, and more stories about the characters are in the works.
When Tamara isn’t reporting, writing or reading, she’s doing yoga, cooking for her Italian husband or chasing her dogs on a beach on Florida's Gulf Coast. She loves connecting with people on social media.
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