Title: Promised at the Moon
Author: Rebekah R. Ganiere
Series: Shifter Rising (Book 1)
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Shifter NA
If he can save her from her past, she could be his future.
Shifter Rising, Book 1
Natasha Moon is running for her life. Though she’s managed to evade a forced mating, she arrives at a California safe house with no idea if the parents who entrusted her to an enigmatic Alpha are alive or dead.
The lone wolf who gets her to safety draws her like a magnet. But to him, she seems to be just another shifter in need. Just another female he thinks he can boss around.
Liam Grey avoids attachments at all costs. With his own demons to fight, he sticks to relocating shifters in trouble, not playing social worker. But when beautiful, fragile Natasha shows up desperate for more than just a place to stay, his inner wolf howls for a chance to give—and be—everything she needs.
Liam has his hands full keeping Natasha safe from other shifters, and from his own desire. But when Natasha’s ex-boyfriend tracks her down, Liam will have to push beyond the brink to keep her for himself—or lose her for good.
Warning: Contains an Alpha who can’t help sticking his nose in where it’s not wanted, and a feisty female who secretly wishes he’d rethink his paws-off policy.
EXCERPT
EXCERPT
Liam leaned in and captured her warm, sweet breath in his mouth. His lips brushed hers and a moan escaped her.
All thoughts fled his mind, and his resolve snapped easier than a toothpick. He pressed his lips to hers hard, and she wrapped her fingers in his hair and guided him to her. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, hot with need. Goose bumps blanketed his skin as his wolf howled in triumph. There was no way to deny it anymore. He wanted her.
Laying her on the sand, he covered her body with his and ran his hand over his leather jacket and down the length of her body. Her flesh molded into his palm. Her hands outlined his arms, sending chills up his spine. The need to have her overwhelmed every sense of reason as he dipped down and ran his tongue over the beautiful U of her collarbone and then kissed his way across the dip of her neck.
Her body quaked at his touch on her silky calves. He pushed her dress above her knee, letting his palm rest on her slender thigh.
He pushed his leather coat off her and kissed down to her exposed shoulder. He licked at her scars, making her shiver. The way she called his name as her breath caught sent his need skyrocketing.
“You are so beautiful.” He ran his tongue over her collarbone again and swirled it down between her breasts. She bucked her hips and ground against him. Desire to feel her skin, to taste her, to make her his overwhelmed every sense of reason. Her hands tangled in his hair and she pulled on it hard, making his pants suddenly too tight to contain him.
He tugged her skirt higher. His hand moved slowly up the inside of her leg.
“Liam,” she gasped.
Her scent swirled around him, making his head fuzzy. Jasmine and musk. He grabbed her hip and pressed his fingertips into the protruding bone. Rubbing his body against hers made her scent grow stronger still and made his arousal spike so hard he thought he’d lose all control.
It wasn’t rational to feel so connected to another person after only a month, but he did. He’d shared things with her that he’d never shared with another. And he wanted to share more with her. He wanted to share everything.
He plunged his tongue deep into her mouth and ran his hand up over the outside of her dress, over her breasts and up to cup her face. Her legs intertwined with his, and she tugged at his belt buckle.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rebekah is an Award Winning Bestselling Author. Her debut novel Dead Awakenings, hit the bestseller list the first day, in January 2014. Her Fairelle Series, released in May 2014 and has won several awards including the Golden Palm and a finalist for Rone Award. Her trilogy The Society was released by Kensington in 2014 and her new series Shifter Rising is releasing in 2016 from Samhain Press.
Rebekah is currently working on six series in the Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Sci-fi genres. She has five books releasing in 2016.
Rebekah is the President Elect of the FF&P Chapter. In her spare time when she isn't writing you can find her teaching on SavvyAuthors.com or at RWA. Rebekah also cosplays with her kids and is a guest speaker and panelist at San Diego Comic Con and Salt Lake Comic Con and several other Comic Cons on the west coast as well as LTUE, Romantic Times Convention, and Authors After Dark.
Title: Unforgettable: The Complete Series Box Set
Series: Unforgettable
Author: Nelle L'Amour
Genre: Erotic Romantic Comedy
Release Date: April 14, 2016
Blurb
FOR THE FIRST TIME, THE BESTSELLING AMAZON TRILOGY TOGETHER IN ONE BOX SET FOR ONLY $.99 FOR A LIMITED TIME ONLY! OVER 600 PAGES OF STEAMY READING! (REGULAR PRICE: $5.99)
Brandon: I've just woken up from a life or death coma. And learned that not only am I Hollywood's number one heartthrob, but I’m also engaged to America's It Girl, Katrina Moore. She may be a blond goddess, but my mind can't remember shit. And my cock doesn't give a shit. Because my heart started beating for another the minute she came through the door.
Zoey: Screw Brandon Taylor. Recovering from his hit and run accident, my demanding, egotistical boss is more of a jerk than ever. And with those violet eyes, more ridiculously panty-melting beautiful. As his personal assistant, I have to attend to his every whim and need as well as contend with his stuck-up fiancée—the Spawn of Satan. Life isn’t easy for me. Despite my visible size, I’ve always been invisible. Maybe, the amnesiac is beginning to remember. A girl can dream. No man is more unforgettable...in every way.
Join Brandon and Zoey in a Cinderella fairy tale that’s guaranteed to make you laugh, cry, and swoon! From Los Angeles to the South of France, their unforgettable love story has it all—romance, passion, steamy hot sex, glitz, and glamour, plus an adorable little dog and a whodunit murder mystery that could unravel everything.
Brandon: I've just woken up from a life or death coma. And learned that not only am I Hollywood's number one heartthrob, but I’m also engaged to America's It Girl, Katrina Moore. She may be a blond goddess, but my mind can't remember shit. And my cock doesn't give a shit. Because my heart started beating for another the minute she came through the door.
Zoey: Screw Brandon Taylor. Recovering from his hit and run accident, my demanding, egotistical boss is more of a jerk than ever. And with those violet eyes, more ridiculously panty-melting beautiful. As his personal assistant, I have to attend to his every whim and need as well as contend with his stuck-up fiancée—the Spawn of Satan. Life isn’t easy for me. Despite my visible size, I’ve always been invisible. Maybe, the amnesiac is beginning to remember. A girl can dream. No man is more unforgettable...in every way.
Join Brandon and Zoey in a Cinderella fairy tale that’s guaranteed to make you laugh, cry, and swoon! From Los Angeles to the South of France, their unforgettable love story has it all—romance, passion, steamy hot sex, glitz, and glamour, plus an adorable little dog and a whodunit murder mystery that could unravel everything.
Purchase Links
99c for a limited time
Excerpt
Zoey
I take another hit of the Campari cocktail. “Have you ever gone swimming in the Mediterranean?”
Brandon smiles. “Dozens of times. The water is incredible. If we have time, I want to take you swimming.”
A frisson of anxiety curls in my gut. Not only am I afraid of swimming in the sea, but I also sure as hell don’t want him to see me in a bathing suit again.
“I don’t think so. You know, I’m still afraid of the ocean.”
He laughs. “The Mediterranean isn’t an ocean. It’s a sea. And technically, the part here in Cannes is a bay. So, the water is very calm. Barely a wave.”
“B-but I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” The truth. I never even thought of bringing one since I packed so hastily.
He laughs again and unnerves me. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll buy you a bikini.”
I gulp. A bikini—the last thing I want to be caught dead in! Especially with Brandon. As I envision the worst, he continues.
“There’s probably a boutique right in the hotel.” He regards me coyly. “You may only need a bottom. Most women here sun and swim topless.”
I gulp again. The ring of Brandon’s phone saves me from responding. Thank God, because I’m at a loss for words.
My eyes stay on him as he pulls out his cell from his jeans pocket and glances down at the caller ID. His lips twist and his brows furrow. Katrina? The phone continues to ring while I anxiously circle the rim of my glass with my fingertip. To my relief, he doesn’t answer it, and, in fact, turns it off. “Fuck it,” he mumbles under his breath. His frown morphs into a smile when Antoine personally brings us our meal along with the bottle of wine.
“Bon appetit,” says the jovial man, setting our order down.
The tantalizing, garlicky aroma of the mussels wafts up my nose. My appetite is aroused.
“Antoine makes the best mussels meuniere in all of the Riviera,” Brandon tells me.
Antoine smiles proudly. He uncorks the wine and pours Brandon a bit. Brandon takes a sip and nods approvingly. “C’est parfait.”
It’s perfect. He’s perfect. We share the big bowl of mussels and the crispy fries, sensuously feeding helpings to one another and imbibing the refreshing pink wine between bites. Moans escape my mouth. Not only are the mussels divine, but their tender meat is also charging me with sexual energy. Mussels must be some kind of aphrodisiac. But actually, everything is turning me on. The food, the wine, the setting. And most of all, the mouth-watering man sitting across from me. My eyes don’t waver from him as I feed him the last mussel. His luscious lips clamp down on the edible part and then he sucks on it.
“Mmm,” he moans, closing his eyes as he does. Every ounce of me is buzzing and there’s a wet fire inside my panties. He swallows and licks his upper lip. Another gush of wetness and a rush of hot tingles besiege me. He re-opens his eyes and meets my gaze, holding it fiercely. Before either of us can say word, a staunch, swarthy woman appears on the terrace. Holding an accordion, she heads our way. Once at our table, she stretches out the instrument and starts to serenade us.
“Inoubliable…”
Oh my God! In one word, the song is instantly recognizable. “Unforgettable.” Mama’s favorite song…sung in French. With the husky voice of a fallen angel, the songstress’s moving rendition pulls at my heartstrings. Tears flood my eyes.
“Why are you crying?” Brandon asks, tenderly brushing my unstoppable tears away.
“This was Mama’s favorite song. She sang it all the time. It reminded her of Papa.” Sniffling, I pause while the dark memory fills my head. “It was playing on the Pier when she was shot.”
“I’m sorry. It’s a beautiful song,” he says softly, cutting into the painful, unforgettable memory. His violet eyes burn right through me and his voice grows softer. “Almost as beautiful as you.”
My watering eyes blink several times while my breath hitches in my throat and my heart hammers against my chest. His words swirl around in my head like confetti. They shower my flesh with flecks of heightened sensation and my soul with explosive emotion. I begin to unravel.
And then he does something that totally turns me into vapor. Tracing my tear-soaked jaw, Brandon sings along in English, his voice pure velvet, as devastating as the man he is
“Oh, Brandon!” I weep out his name. The impact of this magical moment has reduced to me to mush.
Still singing and melting my heart, my gorgeous god of a man stands up, and rounding the table, pulls out my chair. “Dance with me, Zoey.” A soft but strong command.
On my next sniffle, I’m in his strong arms, my head resting on his beating heart, my arms draped around his shoulders, as he moves me slowly to the melody and words. Swaying me side to side, he sings into my ear while tears stream down my face and dampen his linen shirt. I lose myself in him with each slow measured step. It’s as if there is no one else in the world but the two of us. Unforgettable…as the word drifts into a hypnotic hum, he draws me closer to him, pressing his lips on my scalp. I feel the warmth of them and his taut body flush against mine. I melt into his ripples and his arousal. He owns me and I don’t have the strength or desire to break away. Physically or mentally.
I’m drunk with emotion. And one forbidden four-letter word. So intoxicated, I can’t think straight or question what I’m doing. I just cling to him. Like a song of love. Finally, I lift my head, and look up at him, my bleary eyes searching for answers. His impassioned gaze holds me captive. My already racing pulse accelerates.
“Brandon—” I don’t know what words will spill out of my mouth next, if any at all. It doesn’t matter. Because on my next heartbeat, he fists my hair and tugs back my head. Before I can take another breath, his lips come crashing down on mine like a meteor. Still humming, he sucks and gnaws my hungry mouth. White-hot balls of passion explode inside me, showering me with fireworks from my head to my toes. I moan into his mouth and then I part my lips, allowing his tongue to find mine. Entwined, our tongues dance sensuously, swirling and twirling to the music and lyrics. Oh my God. This kiss! This incredible kiss! I cup his strong, stubbled jaw, deepening, and extending it, as he draws me closer, one hand gripping my ass. The song drifts into my ears like a magic carpet. The sparks now blind me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Yet, he’s all I see. Never before has anyone been so unforgettable in every way. After what seems like an eternity, the timeless song ends, and he gently breaks his lips away. My heavy eyelids rise like theater curtains, and our glazed eyes lock in a passionate exchange. Shouts of “bravo” from patrons and bystanders reverberate in my ears. I feel myself flush with embarrassment, but Brandon’s dimpled smile fills me with a rush of lust and desire as he holds me tight in his arms.
Tears flow from my eyes. Everything’s been so perfect. The setting. The meal. Our dance. Our kiss. But something is so wrong with this picture. A blaring ambulance races by. The sound of the siren startles me back to my senses, out of my drunken stupor. Brandon’s name burns on my heart. Remorse singes my brain. I want to rip that dazzling smile off his face. What the hell is he doing? What the hell am I doing? He belongs to another. As reality sets in, so does a bitter mix of panic and regret.
I take another hit of the Campari cocktail. “Have you ever gone swimming in the Mediterranean?”
Brandon smiles. “Dozens of times. The water is incredible. If we have time, I want to take you swimming.”
A frisson of anxiety curls in my gut. Not only am I afraid of swimming in the sea, but I also sure as hell don’t want him to see me in a bathing suit again.
“I don’t think so. You know, I’m still afraid of the ocean.”
He laughs. “The Mediterranean isn’t an ocean. It’s a sea. And technically, the part here in Cannes is a bay. So, the water is very calm. Barely a wave.”
“B-but I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” The truth. I never even thought of bringing one since I packed so hastily.
He laughs again and unnerves me. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll buy you a bikini.”
I gulp. A bikini—the last thing I want to be caught dead in! Especially with Brandon. As I envision the worst, he continues.
“There’s probably a boutique right in the hotel.” He regards me coyly. “You may only need a bottom. Most women here sun and swim topless.”
I gulp again. The ring of Brandon’s phone saves me from responding. Thank God, because I’m at a loss for words.
My eyes stay on him as he pulls out his cell from his jeans pocket and glances down at the caller ID. His lips twist and his brows furrow. Katrina? The phone continues to ring while I anxiously circle the rim of my glass with my fingertip. To my relief, he doesn’t answer it, and, in fact, turns it off. “Fuck it,” he mumbles under his breath. His frown morphs into a smile when Antoine personally brings us our meal along with the bottle of wine.
“Bon appetit,” says the jovial man, setting our order down.
The tantalizing, garlicky aroma of the mussels wafts up my nose. My appetite is aroused.
“Antoine makes the best mussels meuniere in all of the Riviera,” Brandon tells me.
Antoine smiles proudly. He uncorks the wine and pours Brandon a bit. Brandon takes a sip and nods approvingly. “C’est parfait.”
It’s perfect. He’s perfect. We share the big bowl of mussels and the crispy fries, sensuously feeding helpings to one another and imbibing the refreshing pink wine between bites. Moans escape my mouth. Not only are the mussels divine, but their tender meat is also charging me with sexual energy. Mussels must be some kind of aphrodisiac. But actually, everything is turning me on. The food, the wine, the setting. And most of all, the mouth-watering man sitting across from me. My eyes don’t waver from him as I feed him the last mussel. His luscious lips clamp down on the edible part and then he sucks on it.
“Mmm,” he moans, closing his eyes as he does. Every ounce of me is buzzing and there’s a wet fire inside my panties. He swallows and licks his upper lip. Another gush of wetness and a rush of hot tingles besiege me. He re-opens his eyes and meets my gaze, holding it fiercely. Before either of us can say word, a staunch, swarthy woman appears on the terrace. Holding an accordion, she heads our way. Once at our table, she stretches out the instrument and starts to serenade us.
“Inoubliable…”
Oh my God! In one word, the song is instantly recognizable. “Unforgettable.” Mama’s favorite song…sung in French. With the husky voice of a fallen angel, the songstress’s moving rendition pulls at my heartstrings. Tears flood my eyes.
“Why are you crying?” Brandon asks, tenderly brushing my unstoppable tears away.
“This was Mama’s favorite song. She sang it all the time. It reminded her of Papa.” Sniffling, I pause while the dark memory fills my head. “It was playing on the Pier when she was shot.”
“I’m sorry. It’s a beautiful song,” he says softly, cutting into the painful, unforgettable memory. His violet eyes burn right through me and his voice grows softer. “Almost as beautiful as you.”
My watering eyes blink several times while my breath hitches in my throat and my heart hammers against my chest. His words swirl around in my head like confetti. They shower my flesh with flecks of heightened sensation and my soul with explosive emotion. I begin to unravel.
And then he does something that totally turns me into vapor. Tracing my tear-soaked jaw, Brandon sings along in English, his voice pure velvet, as devastating as the man he is
“Oh, Brandon!” I weep out his name. The impact of this magical moment has reduced to me to mush.
Still singing and melting my heart, my gorgeous god of a man stands up, and rounding the table, pulls out my chair. “Dance with me, Zoey.” A soft but strong command.
On my next sniffle, I’m in his strong arms, my head resting on his beating heart, my arms draped around his shoulders, as he moves me slowly to the melody and words. Swaying me side to side, he sings into my ear while tears stream down my face and dampen his linen shirt. I lose myself in him with each slow measured step. It’s as if there is no one else in the world but the two of us. Unforgettable…as the word drifts into a hypnotic hum, he draws me closer to him, pressing his lips on my scalp. I feel the warmth of them and his taut body flush against mine. I melt into his ripples and his arousal. He owns me and I don’t have the strength or desire to break away. Physically or mentally.
I’m drunk with emotion. And one forbidden four-letter word. So intoxicated, I can’t think straight or question what I’m doing. I just cling to him. Like a song of love. Finally, I lift my head, and look up at him, my bleary eyes searching for answers. His impassioned gaze holds me captive. My already racing pulse accelerates.
“Brandon—” I don’t know what words will spill out of my mouth next, if any at all. It doesn’t matter. Because on my next heartbeat, he fists my hair and tugs back my head. Before I can take another breath, his lips come crashing down on mine like a meteor. Still humming, he sucks and gnaws my hungry mouth. White-hot balls of passion explode inside me, showering me with fireworks from my head to my toes. I moan into his mouth and then I part my lips, allowing his tongue to find mine. Entwined, our tongues dance sensuously, swirling and twirling to the music and lyrics. Oh my God. This kiss! This incredible kiss! I cup his strong, stubbled jaw, deepening, and extending it, as he draws me closer, one hand gripping my ass. The song drifts into my ears like a magic carpet. The sparks now blind me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Yet, he’s all I see. Never before has anyone been so unforgettable in every way. After what seems like an eternity, the timeless song ends, and he gently breaks his lips away. My heavy eyelids rise like theater curtains, and our glazed eyes lock in a passionate exchange. Shouts of “bravo” from patrons and bystanders reverberate in my ears. I feel myself flush with embarrassment, but Brandon’s dimpled smile fills me with a rush of lust and desire as he holds me tight in his arms.
Tears flow from my eyes. Everything’s been so perfect. The setting. The meal. Our dance. Our kiss. But something is so wrong with this picture. A blaring ambulance races by. The sound of the siren startles me back to my senses, out of my drunken stupor. Brandon’s name burns on my heart. Remorse singes my brain. I want to rip that dazzling smile off his face. What the hell is he doing? What the hell am I doing? He belongs to another. As reality sets in, so does a bitter mix of panic and regret.
Author Bio
Her bestselling series include Unforgettable, THAT MAN, Gloria’s Secret, Seduced by the Park Avenue Millionaire and critically acclaimed Undying Love. Writing under another pen name, she is also the author of the highly rated fantasy romance series, Dewitched: The Untold Story of the Evil Queen.
To learn about her new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up for her newsletter and follow her on social media. Nelle loves to hear from her readers.
Author Links
Title: Rising Star
Series: Star Tide #4
Author: Christine Ashworth
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 14, 2016
Blurb
Loud and earthy, comedienne Mia Martinez-Coleman never met a curse word she didn't like, but smooth operator Randall Blue--nightclub owner and so much more--is about to prove that things can get even dirtier...and more dangerous.
NO LAUGHING MATTER
Comedienne Maria Teresa Juanita Martinez-Coleman wants her big break so badly she can taste it. Nothing and no one is going to stand in her way, especially nightclub owner Randall Blue. Lately, it seems he's been stalking her--showing up at all her gigs, never laughing but ever-present. He's handsome, rich, and completely out of her league, so she's clueless why he's hanging around...unless he's making sure the show she has scheduled at his famous Topaz Room wasn't a booking error?
Randall Blue has found the full package in Mia. Funny, smart, curvy, sassy--and connected to an arms dealer Randall's been tracking. No one suspects his covert objective; he has a great cover as a businessman with an eye for the ladies. The problem is, this brash, fearless woman is more than a way into El Duke's gang, she's The One. He he has no right claiming her, not when everything she knows about him is a lie. But to keep her out of danger, he's got to get close, which, of course, is right where he wants to be.
Randall Blue has found the full package in Mia. Funny, smart, curvy, sassy--and connected to an arms dealer Randall's been tracking. No one suspects his covert objective; he has a great cover as a businessman with an eye for the ladies. The problem is, this brash, fearless woman is more than a way into El Duke's gang, she's The One. He he has no right claiming her, not when everything she knows about him is a lie. But to keep her out of danger, he's got to get close, which, of course, is right where he wants to be.
Purchase Links
AMAZON LINKS TO BE ADDED
Excerpt
Blue stared up at Mia’s building and sighed, shifted against the tree as he waited. The afternoon was hot, especially here in the Valley, and the air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and the sound of birds in the trees.
He sighed again. All he wanted was a glimpse of her. Just a glimpse. Going on eight weeks, and he’d decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to see her. He’d done the letters, and the flowers, and the Hollywood Bowl.
But she wasn’t ready to speak to him yet, and he wasn’t ready to just give up. So they were at an impasse. Blue swiped at the sweat trickling down his neck.
She still wouldn’t answer his calls. It didn’t matter what number he dialed from, either. She just cut him off, with no opportunity to even leave her a voicemail. Cold, that. He shook his head. He really had to admire her for it. For sticking to her guns, as infuriating as it was.
He wanted her. He tended to get his way in the big scheme of things. He’d locked on her, marked her, and wanted to claim her. The waiting was making him fucking crazy.
But if going crazy for a few weeks was the price he’d have to pay for a lifetime with her, he could do that. He just wished she’d bend, even a little. Damn it, she belonged with him. Why couldn’t she see that?
She came out just then, in baggy shorts and a tee shirt, her hair up in a ponytail. Her head down, she began a slow jog toward him.
Blue swallowed, pushed off the tree he was leaning against, and jogged toward her, grateful for Sami’s intel.
As he approached, he saw her head come up. She stared at him, stopped dead. Turned around the other way and ran.
“Please, Mia. I want to talk to you. It’s not like you gave me any other option,” he said, but didn’t chase after her.
She stopped, her back stiff. Encouraged, Blue took a couple more steps toward her. He moved warily, remembering her bashing Danny with that flashlight. True, she wasn’t carrying anything, but for all he knew she was a black belt.
Also Available
Author Bio
Christine Ashworth grew up listening to the sound of her father’s manual typewriter as he wrote and sold over 300 novels. Now, to her delight, she’s the one writing novels.
Christine is a romantic from way back, having first picked up category romances at the age of twelve, then falling in love with bigger books when she swiped her mother’s copy of Rosemary Rogers’s Sweet Savage Love. She’s happily married to an actor/dancer/guitarist/hippy, has two sons, and tends her garden and her family in Southern California. You can read about her cooking, gardening, and wine picks at her website.
Author Links
No comments:
Post a Comment