April 14, 2015

Release Day Blitz & Giveaway! Not Without You, Impossible Love #3 by Clare James


Falling in love was the easy part … 

Noah and Tabby’s love story wasn’t typical … or particularly romantic. After all, he picked her up at a bar – or maybe she picked him up. Either way, he saw her naked before he even knew her name. 

Tabby came to him broken, but determined. And Noah knew how to fix her. It was a meeting of the bodies. A retraining of the mind. A connection that soon infected the heart. 

But after two years, Noah’s old tricks aren’t working, and Tabby is shutting down again. This time, he refuses to play games. He wants all of her, or nothing at all. 

Not Without You returns to the eclectic neighborhood where Noah and Tabby met, and where they are now discovering that life doesn’t get easier after you leave campus. What began as a sweet story of love and redemption, turns into something dark, intense … and, at times, disturbing. And if they’re not careful, it will destroy them both. 

*Not recommended for readers under 18*


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Amazon UK
Amazon AU
B&N
Kobo


A fan of spunky women, gorgeous guys, and super-hot romance, Clare James spends most of her time lost in books. When she’s not reading, you can find her locked away writing her own steamy stories.
Clare is also a former dancer and still loves to get her groove on – mostly to work off her beloved cupcakes and red wine. She lives in Minneapolis with her two leading men – her husband and young son – and is always on social media chatting with readers.




Release Day Blast: Excerpt & Giveaway! Love So Irresistible,The Lawson Brothers #3 by Marquita Valentine


All former Navy SEAL Mason Lawson craves is solitude. Unfortunately, his new neighbor won’t allow him the peace he so desperately needs. Between the traffic and the music, Mason is constantly on edge—not exactly what the doctor ordered for someone recovering from a bullet to the leg. However, when he finally has enough and confronts his neighbor, nothing can prepare him for how hot he’d get for the teacher next door.

Piano teacher, Skylar Jernigan, loves everything about the town of Jessamine—from the quaint Main Street shops to the people who own them. Unfortunately, once she’s chewed up and spit out by her sexy neighbor, Skylar begins to question her decision to move to a new town. Until, that is, she learns he’s suffering from a war wound and refuses to have anything to do with his family.

Now, Skylar is determined to help Mason recover—mentally, physically and socially—until he turns the tables and sets out to seduce Skylar right out of her meddling ways. Only seduction turns into something more and soon, Mason can’t stop looking for excuses to be with her. But when the Navy wants Mason to reenlist for a dangerous mission, will Skylar be too irresistible for him to leave?




“I bought too many, so I thought I’d share the extras with you,” Skylar said. Her explanation sounded perfectly reasonable to her, even if her reason for being on Mason’s front porch was entirely unbelievable.

She had caved, faster than a sandcastle taking on high tide. 

Mason stared at her as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what she was saying. “That’s a hell of a lot of crab for only being extra.”

“My eyes were bigger than my stomach.” She held out the large bag of crabs to him. “And I can’t resist a sale.”

He leaned against the doorframe, his light hair pulled back off his handsome face. She studied him for a minute, taking in his blue t-shirt and loose jeans. He was too skinny for the jeans, but the t-shirt stretched out rather nicely over his shoulders and the indentions on each side of his hips were not hard on the eyes at all.

“Anything else you can’t resist?” he asked and she jerked up her gaze, blushing hotly at being caught ogling him.

“Beer?” She held up the six-pack. “Fat Tire was on sale, too.”

He narrowed his sexy, blue eyes at her. “You’ve already eaten?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I need to search for a recipe for the crabs I kept for myself. I’ve never cooked them before.” The crabs moved in the bag, and she almost dropped them. The cold had kept them immobile, but the longer she stood in the heat…the more awake they became.

Stepping to one side, he motioned for her to come inside. “Might as well eat with me. I already have a recipe,” he said as he closed the door behind her and started for the back of the house. Instead of using his cane, he limped as he walked and Bomber stayed at his side. 

“I can just write it down,” she said, following him.

He tapped the side of his head. “Secret family recipe.”

She laughed. “But I’ll see what you use.”

“You won’t know the exact amounts and that’s important.”

Mason’s kitchen was huge, with stainless-steel appliances and more cabinets than anyone could ever need. In the center stood a large island with a prep sink and a butcher-block top. 

“Really nice kitchen,” she said, admiring the wavy glass in the doors of the nearest cabinet.

“I like to cook.”

“You do?”

“I like to eat,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Who doesn’t?” she replied.

“Lately, I haven’t.” He turned around and leaned against the counter. She set the bag of crabs in the sink and the beer on the island.

“Do your meds make your appetite go away?” They had for her dad, in those awful, final months. He’d practically wasted away to nothing. Maybe that was why she wanted to help Mason so badly. She didn’t want another person to just waste away, especially if she could help. Mason didn’t have cancer either. 

He nodded stiffly. “You’re the first person to ask me that…besides my doctor.”

“The alcohol doesn’t help.” She wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the half-empty bottles and had smelled it on his breath. “It’s a good thing you exercise or you wouldn’t look like you do.”

She half expected him to take offense, but he only lifted a brow and said, “How do I look exactly?”

“Like a man who used to take care of his body.”

His lips thinned. “How is the air working in your house?”

“Like a freezer.”

“Good thing?”

“Very good thing. I actually wore pajamas to bed last night,” she said. “But I’m going to have to bring you a lot of noise-cancelling headphones in order to pay you back. They had to replace the entire thing.”

“What did you used to wear?” he asked with a grin that almost made her forget her own name.

He would focus on that. “Nothing. I mean…” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t try to change the subject. I will pay you back.”

“Crab and beer are a good start.” He pushed away from the front of the island and opened a deep drawer, pulling out a large pot and handing it to her. “Fill this halfway up with water and put it on the stove to boil. Gas burners okay for you?”

“Yes. I have one, too.” She took the pot and filled it, then set it on the stove and turned on the gas while he poured in a dash of vinegar and sprinkled in some spices. “What’s next?”

“We fix the sides—I’m thinking fries and hushpuppies.”

She glanced at the crabs and shivered. They were moving more vigorously now. “What about them?” She whispered the last word.

“We’ll get to them in a minute.” He nodded to the right. “There’s a bag of potatoes in the pantry. Get those out and we’ll make fries.”

Thankful for something else to do besides worry about the stupid crabs, she hopped right to it. “I guess this is as good of time as any to confess that I’ve never cooked live seafood before.”

“Figured as much.”

She glanced up into his blue eyes. “I can do whatever I need to in order to cook them.”

“I’ll take care of the crab.” 

How could something so simple, and about cooking of all things, make her want to swoon?

He touched her face, starting at her cheek and ending up at her lips. His thumb brushed her mouth. The smell of liquor wafted over her. “You’ve been drinking.” So that explained his easygoing mood. It wasn’t her presence. “Did you take your meds with it?”

“Always do before bed.” 

She frowned. “That’s not safe, Mason.”

“You’re worried about me?”

Instead of answering, she nodded. 

“Why?”

“Because we’re neigh—”

“Don’t.” His thumb made another pass, and she shivered again. This time in pleasure and not fear. His touch was making her weak in the knees. “The real reason, Skylar.”

“Because when I saw you on the ground, I thought that if anyone needed love, it was you.

“Not that I’m in love with you. I meant a neighborly type of love. Love for fellow man type of love,” she added. “What would Jesus do love.”




New York Times Bestselling Author, Marquita Valentine, writes sexy heroes that make you swoon and sassy heroines that make you laugh. She’s the author of the bestselling contemporary romance series, Holland Springs, and the new adult romance series, Boys of the South.
Marquita met her husband aka Hot Builder at Sonic when they were in high school. She suggests this location to all of her single friends in search of a good man—and if that doesn't work, they can console themselves with cheesy tatertots. She lives in North Carolina in a very, very small town with Hot Builder and their two children.




April 13, 2015

Release Day Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! The Nines byDakota Madison


USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Dakota Madison and Sierra Avalon team up to bring readers a new breed of antiheroes…THE NINES.

Vengeance is mine not the Lord’s. It’s what I breathe for. It’s what I’m still living for. I live for the moment when I will literally have his eye for mine. It’s been two years. Two long and difficult years, but my plan is nearly complete. When I’m not in a hospital having doctors try to repair my ravaged body I spend my time on the computer, doing hacking jobs for large corporations and governments who don’t want to get their hands dirty or be associated with a job if things go sideways. But they don’t have any reason to worry. I’m meticulous, so I’ll never get caught. Just one thing stands in my way: The mysterious young woman without a past who desperately wants to be part of my future. I just need to figure out why…

THE NINES is an ongoing romantic suspense series. Each book can be read as a STAND ALONE NOVEL or as PART OF THE SERIES.


Vengeance is mine not the Lord’s. It’s what I breathe for. It’s what I’m still living for. I live for the moment when I will literally have his eye for mine. It’s been two years. Two long and difficult years, but my plan is nearly complete. When I’m not in a hospital having doctors try to repair my ravaged body I spend my time on the computer, doing hacking jobs for large corporations and governments who don’t want to get their hands dirty, or be associated with a job if things go sideways. But they don’t have any reason to worry. I’m meticulous, so I’ll never get caught.
I have the one thing that most people don’t.
Time.
After I was burned it was difficult for people to look at me and when they did, it was with pity or disgust, often both.
Even my own mother.
I don’t want anyone’s pity. And I have enough disgust towards myself to last five lifetimes.
So I left everything I’ve ever known and started over on my own.
Now I spend my days and nights in the small home I inherited from my aunt when she died. I would never have chosen to live next door to a large state university. It’s often loud and there are young people everywhere. It’s a constant reminder of everything I lost. I don’t feel young anymore. I feel like an old man trapped in a twenty-year-old body. If wisdom is the gift of tragedy I’d rather be ignorant.
I rarely leave home. It’s amazing what you can have delivered to your door these days. When I do need to go outside, it’s always at night and I always wear a mask. Not like the ones kids wear on Halloween. It’s more like the one that the Phantom of the Opera wore, but my mask is black and was specially designed to cover the burn scars on the left side of my face.
My latest job is for an Eastern European mob family. Modern day computer espionage has given a whole new meaning to the term “mob hit.” There’s no blood, no violence, just five million dollars vanished from several off-shore accounts in the blink of an eye. And I get fifteen percent. Not bad for a few weeks’ work.
Is it wrong to steal from criminals? I call it karmic justice. I don’t take jobs that could hurt innocent people. I only wrong people who have wronged others.
I have the luxury of a hefty bank account and very few needs. I don’t need to work another day my entire life and I wouldn’t want for a thing. But I need to keep my mind occupied. So I take hacking jobs that interest me and I take university classes online.
Having online discussions with my virtual classmates gives me the illusion of having friends and a social life. I realize it’s a poor substitute, but it’s the best I can do given my situation.
I try not to dwell on the past. The person I was, Mr. Popularity, the Class President, the Homecoming King, died the day my body burned like a barbeque on the Fourth of July.
My life now is in the shadows. Living with the fringe dwellers on the edge of humanity. I often feel like a man whose body has died, but his mind hasn’t caught up to that fact yet.
When my computer roars I know I have an incoming message. It’s from one of my contacts in China. I get a lot of work from the Chinese. I don’t speak Chinese and don’t have the patience to learn, so I use an intermediary to broker the deals. He gets fifteen percent of every deal he mediates.
 I hear the familiar buzz of SKYPE and when I click on the icon Xiang Yuan appears on the screen. He’s young, probably just a few years older than me, but much better dressed. He always wears five hundred dollar suits and I’ve never seen him wear the same one twice.
“I can get you eight hundred thousand,” he says.
I don’t reply right away. I like to play things cool.
He continues. “With your skills this job won’t take more than one week. Who else will pay close to a million for one week’s work?”
“The Russians immediately come to mind,” I reply.
“And they’ll slit your throat if you don’t deliver on time. We have much more patience than that.”
I give a hearty laugh. “You guys are saints. You’d never slit a hacker’s throat. Maybe I should tell that to Jenks. Oh, wait. I can’t. You killed him.”
“Jenks got sloppy. That’s one concern I never have with you. You’re too meticulous.”
I shake my head. “You’re just saying that because you need me to take the job.”
“You’re the best person for the job,” he corrects.
“I’m the only guy you’ve got left.”
“Nine hundred thousand. But that is the final offer. Do we have a deal?”
I nod. “We have a deal.”
“Good. Let me know when the job is completed.”
“Don’t I always?”
Xiang Yuan doesn’t bother with a reply. He simply disappears from the screen.
I don’t need the money, but it’s an easy job that will probably only take a few days’ work. They’re offering close to a million for it. It’s not something I can refuse.
I rise and take a stretch away from my laptop. Sometimes it starts to feel like an appendage and that’s when I know I need a little time away from it. I step into the kitchen and make a fresh pot of coffee. While it’s brewing I glance out my kitchen window. My aunt liked to garden and the backyard is like a small sanctuary. I like to look at the plants and flowers, but I can’t be bothered with the maintenance. I have a gardener who comes by once a week to trim and weed and do whatever else needs to be done to keep it looking nice. I’ve never actually met the man, but I leave a check in an envelope for him under a mat on the back porch.
From my kitchen window I also have a slightly obstructed view of the small street I live on. The fact that it’s Macedonia Boulevard and my name is Alexander is a coincidence that is not lost on me.
 The house is one block removed from one of the major thoroughfares the students frequent, so it’s not as noisy as it could be for being so close to campus. I’m still just a few blocks away from some of the dorms and much of the off-campus housing.
 I’m surprised to see a beautiful girl, carrying a backpack, stop right next to my house. I have no idea who she is, or why she’s stopped there, but she looks lost.
Her long, dark hair moves slightly in the breeze and when it finally blows away from her face I can see her magnificent brown eyes and perfect pink lips. If my wishes came true and I was finally dead I know I’d be looking at the face of an angel.
I shouldn’t be standing in front of my window in the daylight staring at her. If she turned at just the right angle she could see me, and that wouldn’t be pretty. It would probably traumatize her. I need to move away from the window, but I can’t. I’m completely mesmerized by her. 
When she looks at the street sign then looks up and down the block again there’s little doubt in my mind that she’s lost. I want to tell her that she’s just a block from campus. She hasn’t wandered too far afield. But I can’t leave the house, especially not in the daylight. I know as soon as she took one good look at me she’d probably run away screaming before I even had a chance to utter a word.
As she heaves a large sigh my gaze is immediately drawn to her chest. She’s wearing a pale pink sundress that fits like a glove and accentuates all of the lovely curves of her petite body. For a few moments I think about what it would be like to have my hands on her body. To touch her in the most intimate of ways. To run my fingers along her perfect, unblemished skin.
Then I chide myself for even giving in to those thoughts. There’s no use in imagining what I can never have again. Access to a woman’s body is something I lost forever. No woman would ever consider being with someone as damaged and disfigured as I am.
I considered my life over the day that half of my flesh was burned off of my body. The doctors working on me didn’t think I would live. They called it a miracle that I didn’t die. I call it a life sentence with no chance of parole.
I realized pretty quickly that my life had irrevocably changed. What I didn’t really understand until much later was the impact my injuries would have on the other people in my life.
It wasn’t until my high school girlfriend, Sara, was finally allowed to visit me that reality punched me in the face and knocked my teeth out. Sara and I had been together for over a year when it happened. She would have been burned just like me if she didn’t have a doctor’s appointment that morning and arrived late to school.
Her allergy shots kept her from dying in the blaze, or even worse, surviving it like I did.
She told me that she loved me nearly every day we were together. She was supposed to be my soul mate. We were supposed to spend our lives together.
But when she saw me in the hospital for the first time after the school bombing it was like she didn’t know me. When she looked at me all the love vanished from her beautiful brown eyes. It was like she was looking at a complete stranger.
That was the moment I knew my life as I had known it was over. Sara never came back to visit me and I never saw her again.
I spent my senior year of high school being homeschooled because I was in and out of the hospital so much. I’m smart and was always a good student so I finished all of my work early and started taking college classes in January of what was supposed to be my senior year of high school.
I traded in my high school prom and senior graduation parties for a life of worldwide hacking jobs and built my reputation as one of the best in the field of cyber espionage.  
 For a brief moment I panic because the girl standing outside my house turns to face me and for a second it’s almost like she can see inside of my house and she’s watching me.
But I know it’s not possible. If she really had caught a glimpse of me she would have already backed away in horror, wouldn’t she?
The girl just looks puzzled. Her head is cocked like she’s trying to figure something out. Then I see her walk towards the front of my house.
I hurry out of the kitchen and into the living room. I move the curtains on the front windows the slightest bit so that I can just make out what she’s doing. She’s standing right outside on the front walk way, staring at my front entrance.
What in the world could she possibly want with me?
Then it occurs to me. Maybe it’s not me she wants at all. Maybe she’s one of my aunt’s former students.
She looks down at a small piece of paper in her hands and then looks back up at the house. It’s almost as if she’s trying to decide whether or not she should walk up to the front door and knock.
I’m not sure what I’ll do if she does decide to knock on the door. It’s broad daylight. I only have deliveries come at night, when it’s difficult to see me, and I always leave the lights off, obscuring their view of me even further.
I hold my breath waiting to see what the girl will do. Just when I think she might make her way up to the door she takes off down the road instead.
I breathe a small sigh of relief that I don’t have to deal with her at the door. But in a small way I also feel a twinge of disappointment.




BROKEN (Seether)

CREEP (Radiohead)

FALL TO PIECES (Velvet Revolver)

IT’S BEEN AWHILE (Staind)

BAD COMPANY (Five Finger Death Punch)

KRYPTONITE (3 Doors Down)

WISH YOU WERE HERE (Pink Floyd)



USA TODAY Bestselling author Dakota Madison is known for writing New Adult and contemporary romance with a little spice and lots of heart. She likes to explore current social issues in her work. Dakota is a winner of the prestigious RONE Award for Excellence in the Indie and Small Publishing Industry. When she’s not at her computer creating spicy stories Dakota likes to spend time with her husband and their bloodhounds at their home outside Phoenix, Arizona. Dakota also writes under the pen names SAVANNAH YOUNG, SIERRA AVALON and REN MONTERREY.




Release Day Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! Obsessed, Starstruck #1 by Beth Ciotta


A showplace for talent. A playground for love. STARSTRUCK. A new contemporary continuity series by Beth Ciotta, Cynthia Valero, and Elle J Rossi. Three authors. One world. Launching with Ciotta’s sexy novella—Obsessed.

A Fallen Star…

A hot-mess of controversy and scandal, Dakota Breeze—tarnished pop star of fading fame and fortune—accepts a friend’s offer, taking refuge in a small Midwestern town in order to rehearse her comeback concert in secret. Starstruck is the perfect venue however rehearsals are marred by Dakota’s reluctance to resurrect her former bad-girl persona and complicated by an anonymous death threat.

A Haunted Bodyguard…

Enlisted by a mutual friend, Wyatt MacDermott—a seasoned protection specialist—agrees to act as Dakota’s temporary bodyguard. Forced to set aside a personal grudge in order to fulfill his duties, Mac’s stunned by his fierce and instant attraction to the reckless celebrity he’s long associated with his greatest regret.

Obsessed with conflicting needs and united passion, Dakota and Wyatt spin out of control, indulging in a whirlwind affair and tempting an avenger’s wrath.


Dakota palmed her aching chest, fought for an even breath as Mac steered the sedan through the gates to her temporary residence. She hadn’t meant to spew or to beg. She didn’t want his pity.

But she did want him.

For all his indifference, he made her feel safe. At this point she’d welcome anything, even the company of Ice Man, to minimize her stress. Stress messed with her concentration and judgment, undermining her on-stage performances and her pursuit of private serenity.

Feeling exposed and raw, Dakota pushed her agenda. “So are you with me or not?” 

He didn’t respond. Of course, he didn’t respond. The man was a freaking robot.

The car stopped just shy of the house and, with a white-knuckled hold on her purse, Dakota pushed open her door. Her shoulder sang with the effort, but she didn’t groan or complain or even wince. Mac was right. She was lucky to be alive.

She blocked his cold rejection from her mind, focused on Maggie. She needed to check on her ailing assistant and she didn’t want to compound matters by looking like a frazzled mess.

A startled scream stuck in her throat as her new bodyguard backed her against the car.

“One,” he said, spearing her with steely grey eyes, “You don’t move without telling me first. Two: As soon as we get in the house, I want that letter. Three: I say jump, you jump. I’m talking unflinching trust, Dakota.”

It was the most he’d said to her since they’d met and even though he’d done nothing but issue arrogant orders, a strange sense of calm snaked through her tense being. Pinned between the tank of a car and her broad-shouldered bodyguard, Dakota held his gaze and raised onto her toes, her mouth a breath away from his own. “For me to jump, MacDermott, I need to know something other than ice flows through your veins.”

And with that she indulged in one last impulsive act. She pressed her lips to his, anticipating rejection. Anticipating Antarctica.

Instead, he blew her away, melting her bones with a deep, searing kiss. His touch, his taste, his passion dazed her far more than any spinning car. Who could think straight with his strong hands exploring her curves? With his massive erection raging between them?

Dakota gave over to the intensity, the wonder, the mind-blowing melding that obliterated morality. Just shy of her jumping his freaking bones, Mac cooled her jets by backing away.

“Now you know,” he said as he reverted to professional indifference. “And if you’re smart, you’ll leave it at that.”





Storytelling comes naturally to award-winning author Beth Ciotta. Dubbed "fun and sexy" by Publisher's Weekly, Beth specializes in contemporary, historical, steampunk, and paranormal romantic fiction.
Beth lives in NJ with her husband, two zany dogs, and a crazy cat. A retired professional performer, Beth now pours her artistic passion into her writing. To learn more about her colorful life, visit her website at www.bethciotta.com

Book Promo: Excerpt & Giveaway! Consensual, Consensual #1 by Livia James


Braelynn Wolf is focused on two things: work and law school.

That is how she survives.
That is how she’ll make a difference.

Until she meets HIM.

Peyton Haas is sexy, dangerous, and forbidden. The defense attorney on Braelynn’s first legal case is the only man who can cloud her judgment. Unable to stay away, she finds herself lying to everyone around her so she can spend time with the man who makes her feel things she never felt before—things she never dreamed possible.

With the legal case hanging on a thread, can Braelynn ignore the relationship she has built with Peyton?

Or will she succumb to the man who has the power to throw away her future?


The bedroom door creaked open as it had almost every night since I could remember. He always came for the same person—Loren. I hated him, despised him really. That night, like every other night, I didn’t want her to go. My big sister was all I had. My mother and father had died a long time ago. 

“Lo,” I cried. “Please don’t leave. Please.” I heard her kick off her sheets before she rustled out of her bed. I’d never had the courage to look at him standing at the door waiting for her, but I knew he was there, with his greasy hair and his beer belly hanging low over the waistband of his boxer shorts. 

Loren ran to my bed and knelt down next to me. “Shh. It’s okay, Brae. I won’t be long. I promise. Close your eyes like a good girl, all right?” 

I turned to face her, tears moistening my eyes. She planted a soft kiss on my forehead. “I promise when I come back I’ll lie with you, okay?” I nodded.

It was dark outside, but dawn was coming. Only a few short hours before the light chased away the darkness and all the misery that accompanied it. The sound of crickets chirping outside our bedroom window punctuated the silence inside our small, two-bedroom house. The music coming from their wings should have helped calm me, but it only served as the eerie background track to our recurring nightmare. 

I held back my tears, but couldn’t give up without a fight. “But, Loren—”

“Shut her up before your aunt wakes,” the horrible man said. Bile rose in my throat at the sound of his voice. 

An eight-year-old shouldn’t know what rape is, or what true hatred feels like, but I hated that man, hated him with every breath I took. 

Loren continued rubbing my hair as she spoke. “Brae, listen to me. This will be over soon … for both of us.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it tightly. “I promise. Please, just be quiet.” 

I closed my eyes and rolled over to face the yellowing drywall that had never been painted. Loren’s footsteps softly tapped against the wood floor as she headed out of the bedroom.

“What was that all about?” he asked gruffly. 

The thin walls allowed their conversation to flow freely throughout the house, but my aunt Tara never heard them. Her alcohol-induced coma helped her sleep through the horror that occurred every night right under her nose.

“Nothing,” Loren responded. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

His voice was cold when he spoke again. “I don’t appreciate your mouth. Maybe I should take her to the basement with me instead. She knows better than to talk back to her uncle.” 

I shut my eyes tighter. I never wanted to be near him, especially not alone in the basement.

“She’s been through enough. You will not take advantage of her,” Loren said just before I heard the signature creak of the basement door.

My eyes snapped open at the sound of a hand slapping against flesh. “I will have her one day and there is nothing you can do about it. Now get your ass down there.” 

The basement door shut, muffling any further conversation between them. Tears streamed from my eyes as fear consumed me, and I shoved my face into my pillow to mask my sobs.




Livia Jamerlan is the author of Divided. She is also a hopeless romantic who is always looking for her next love story to pop in her head. Though Livia kept a journal throughout her early life, she never thought about pursuing a career in writing. She always used it as form of therapy, pouring her heart out into words. It wasn’t until a story developed in her head that she decided maybe she could write a book. At first it was just an escape from reality, but now she uses it as a power to put all her feelings, hopes, and fears on paper. Deciding it was time to tell her story, she began to write. With each passing day the story grew, characters were formed, and what seemed like a hobby at first has now become a passion for Livia.
She is a New Jersey Native who loves spending time with her husband and two dogs Buddy and Daisy. When she is not writing or hiding behind her Kindle, you can find her with outside, gardening, at a local shopping center enjoying some retail therapy, or enjoy a pepperoni pizza.




Release Day Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! Kyle's Return, Gloves Off #5 by L.P. Dover


I promised myself I’d stay away from dangerous men, but I couldn’t live up to that when Kyle Andrews came back to town. He’s a manipulator, a guy who’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants, sabotaging anyone who gets in the way. After a fatal fight left him wounded, his UFC career came to a close. He has nothing, but he’s determined to get it all back.

My name is Megan. I’ve known violence, pain, and what it feels like to be scared to live another day. All of that changed the moment I refused to be a victim. Now that my psychotic ex, Alex, can’t find me, I’ve been given a second chance. I owe my life to my friends. The same goes for Kyle. Without him, I wouldn’t be able to feel.

Everyone hates him. But for the life of me I don’t. There’s something about him I can’t ignore. Being with Kyle makes me want it all. However, in loving a hated man, I didn’t know it’d bring the life I fled from back to haunt me. Everywhere I go danger lurks and bad things happen. Kyle believes it’s because of him, but I’m starting to think otherwise. I think Alex has found me, and if so, this time he’s not going to let me go.


Letting my hands go, he reached around my waist and pulled me into his lap. “Kiss me. And not because I asked you to, but because you want to.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I would say you’re a liar. Your mind may say no, but your body tells me otherwise. I’d rather you listen to your body.”

I got up and straddled his lap, using the back of the couch, I boxed him in with my arms, leaning in until I could feel his hot breath on my lips. I felt his body flex in anticipation and the movement made my insides twinge. He wanted me and I held the upper hand. It was a rush of adrenaline. He leaned in, trying to make the connection, but I sat back and smirked, maintaining my space. I thought he’d laugh at my power move, but his eyes turned dark with need.

Leaning in again, I pressed my lips to his, softly at first, but then I bit his lip and sucked on it, rocking my hips into his arousal. His grip lowered and tightened on my ass as he deepened the kiss, groaning into my mouth. I wanted to rip his clothes off right there and knew this was moving too fast. He hadn’t proven enough yet, I’d be stupid to give in now. Breathing hard, I broke away and sat up. “The answer, by the way, is yes.”

“What’s the question?” His half-lidded gaze caught mine as he pushed up into me a few times, his body less willing to stop than his mind.

“The one you incessantly asked me every day this week, if I missed you. And the answer is yes, I have. Just don’t make me regret it.”

The door opened behind us. “For Christ sake!” Nic whined as she barged into the living room and caught us grinding on the couch. “Have you never heard of a bedroom? My eyes may be permanently damaged now. Do they have Lasik for this type of shit?”

After she dramatically made her way to her bedroom with one hand over her eyes and the other out in front of her, the moment between us had cooled. At that point, we decided it was best for him to head home before things went any further.

It was a good thing Nic had such bad timing, otherwise who knows what we would’ve ended up doing.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, L.P. Dover, is a southern belle residing in North Carolina along with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she even began her literary journey she worked in Periodontics enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.

Not only does she love to write, but she loves to play tennis, go on mountain hikes, white water rafting, and you can't forget the passion for singing. Her two number one fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime and those songs usually consist of Christmas carols.

Aside from being a wife and mother, L.P. Dover has written over fifteen novels including her Forever Fae series, the Second Chances series, the Gloves Off series, and her standalone novel, Love, Lies, and Deception. Her favorite genre to read is romantic suspense and she also loves writing it. However, if she had to choose a setting to live in it would have to be with her faeries in the Land of the Fae.

L.P. Dover is represented by Marisa Corvisiero of Corvisiero Literary Agency.