celebrate the release of The Bad Boy’s Baby by Cindi Madsen! Be sure to check
out the excerpt, teasers, and event giveaway. Don’t forget to pick up your copy
might be his toughest mission yet…There are certain words that have always
described Cam Brantley: Town bad boy. Soldier. Protector. But never, ever dad.
Until he returns home from his latest military tour to discover the girl he had
one smoking-hot night with is now mom to the adorable two-year-old Zoey. Who
has his eyes.
Plenty of words could describe Emma Walker
these days. Mom, dutiful granddaughter, budding designer, the town’s golden
child. But when her longtime crush Cam Brantley comes back to town, she knows
the perfect word to describe herself: screwed.
Cam and Emma are both shocked to discover he
truly wants Zoey in his life. But Cam’s not sure he’s ready to be a dad, and
Emma can’t gamble her daughter on maybes. As the long-simmering heat between
Cam and Emma reaches a boiling point, he’ll have to work past his demons in
order to be the man both girls need.
rounded a huge sagebrush, and calm and collected flew right out the window as
she took him in. There was something about the mountain background that brought
out his rugged features even more, from the strong square jaw to the scruff
covering it to just…him. She’d never thought she’d be so turned on by muddy
pant legs and a baseball cap that looked like it’d been to hell and back.
before their bet got pulled into it and things became more awesome or super
awkward, she decided to at least complete a semibold move. She took a large
step forward, ran her palm down the side of his face, and planted a kiss on his
grin spread across the rugged features she’d been admiring, and he wrapped one
arm around her waist. “Just so you know, you touch the beard, I touch your
him a saucy smile, she reached up and ran her hand down it again, dragging out
the gesture before brushing her fingertips across his jaw.
kept his promise, one hand lowering to the curve of her butt. Using the solid
grip, he hauled her against him and kissed her again. Then he whispered, “If
this is your attempt at getting out of stripping for me, it’s a good try and
all, but a bet’s a bet.”
Today Bestselling author Cindi Madsen sits at her computer every chance she
gets, plotting, revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it
makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too
many shoes but can always find a reason to buy a new pretty pair, especially if
they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music, dancing, and wishes
summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most
definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children.Visit her at
www.cindimadsen.com, where you
can sign up for her newsletter and learn about upcoming releases.Cindi is the author of YA books All
the Broken Pieces, Cipher, Rift, Resolution, and Demons of the Sun, and
adult romances Falling for Her Fiancé, Act Like You Love Me, Resisting
the Hero, Cinderella Screwed Me Over and Ready to Wed.
She succeeded in making him feel like a man. A normal functioning man when he hadn’t felt that way in years.“Who’re you f*cking?”
When my father, manager of the worldwide phenomenon Kinky Shine, asked me to come and help the band members appear more approachable I never thought my first meeting with Dex Bowers would start with such a question.
Immediately, I wanted to strangle him, wipe the smirk off his face and force him to mutter more than three words.
But there’s something mysterious about him that was electrifying and the more he pushed me away and angered me, the more I wanted to know him and push through his hangups. “Trust. That f*cking trust thing didn’t come easily to me.”
In the five years since my band became famous, not once had I been photographed with a woman. I knew it fed the supposed mystery surrounding me, but the real truth was far more humiliating than I was comfortable with.
That was until Harley Floyd walked in and I was left with a mind numbing lust for her that scared me shitless. It should be easy to let go and trust her just enough to have fun, to be happy I could finally come up with new material for our next album. But nothing was easy and with a life made of sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll I wasn’t sure if anything could last. Not even my band.
“What twenty-five year old was f*cking lost when his cock was rock hard when close to a gorgeous woman? One answer to that; a man who hadn’t had sex in a really long time.”
When I thought she’d take a step toward me, she took one backward and away from me. Her eyes widened and she blushed. “I guess this time I should be the one leaving,’’ she said in a small voice, her words stumbling into each other’s .
“No.’’ What the fuck was I saying?
“What? I mean,’’ she shook her head. “I’m leaving.’’
I grabbed her shoulders and crowded her space before I realized what I was doing. Her scent enveloped me, enticed me. The thin material of her top was soft under my fingers, almost like nothing was separating me from her body. If I took a half step toward her I would feel her perfect breasts against my chest. I clenched my jaw and tried to calm my labored breathing. After a few seconds without moving she tilted her head upward to look at me and I was fucked. I thought I had been before that, but now, now I was lost to the sensations she was awakening in me, sensations I thought were gone.
Her lips, lush and parted called out to me. Her cheeks coloring more and more into a deeper red had me ready to damn myself for this show of innocence. Her eyes, bright and yet getting glassier showed nothing akin to innocence and that made me ready to come in my fucking pants. She was a contradiction and I would have never thought it’d be so tantalizing.
“What are you doing?’’ she whispered and her breath brushed my neck. I closed my eyes, my lips parted on a low moan. Fuck. What was she doing to me?
“Push me away. Now.’’
I kept my eyes closed to better feel the brush of her breathing on my skin. My cock was pushing against my zipper and it was fucking painful. I wanted to squeeze myself and jerk off to find a release, but I couldn’t. We were on a street in broad daylight.
I waited and waited and nothing happened. She kept on breathing irregularly and didn’t push me away.
Stephanie Witter is a dreamer. She started
learning English at three, and fell in love with the language. Always with a
book or two close by, she can’t spend a day without reading (or writing).
It finally happened, I lost my virginity. Cue applause and cheers.
For a while life was all rainbows and kittens prancing in a sky full of cotton candy clouds…that was until the demands of the real world set in.
My best friend is getting married and she asked me to be her maid of honor. She’s not worried about flowers, or the dress, or the food at the venue. No, she’s worried about the bachelorette party, what kind of penis crown she will wear, and the nipple size of the stripper who will be attending.
I’m in way over my head trying to balance life with a boyfriend, planning a penis party, and writing my romance novel. Something is bound to give.
This is my life after my happily ever after…
Being a lube virgin, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the thin liquid, so, I popped the top open, squatted ever so slightly with my legs spread as much as they could go, thanks to my underwear, and I pressed the lube up near my vagina. Taking a deep breath, I squeezed hard and shot the lube straight up into Virginia.
A cold wave of thin liquid coated my inner walls right before gravity took hold of it and brought it back down, straight into my underwear, my now appointed lube net.
“Crap,” I muttered, looking down at the pile of liquid sitting in the crotch of my underwear.
Bottle and balls in my hands, I stared at the mess and tried to decide what to do. The heaviness of the lube weighed down my underwear, so I shimmied them down my legs and toed them to the side to pick up after. Commando was sexy, I told myself.
Still eyeing the balls, I convinced myself I could do this. How hard could it really be? Taking a deep breath, I prayed there was enough lube still coating Virginia and slipped the first ball in. Easily I pushed it up and was pleased with the way it fit. With a little more confidence, I thumbed the second one inside and clenched. A small vibration rang through me . . . a pleasing sensation was I wasn’t expecting.
“Well, isn’t that delightful?” I said to myself.
Standing there, I felt comfortable; I could totally do this. More confident, I deposited my underwear and the empty lube bottle in the sanitary napkins trash can—sorry cleaning service—and wiped my hands with some toilet paper so I didn’t slick down the door handle.
Flushing the toilet, I exited, walking very slowly to the sink. With every step, my confidence wavered. I had to really think about each push forward, clenching as tight as I could, praying I didn’t strain my damn cervix.
Her bosom heaved at an alarming rate as his rough hand found its way down to her soft, yet wiry briar patch…
Can you say briar patch in a romance novel? What about meat sword? That’s what it is…a meat sword, right, all meaty and sword like, slaying through the inner dungeons of a woman’s dark desires. What about breasts? Do bosoms really heave?
God, I have no idea what happens when private parts touch.
I’m a virgin trying to write a romance novel and can’t seem to write past a sex scene thanks to my lack of experience.
My two best friends encourage me to drop the pen for a while and gain some real life practice through multiple dating facets such as blind dates, online profiles, and random hookups.
But losing my virginity is proving to be tougher than expected…
the book info, fun posts, and giveaway!
Weekend (Sugar City #3) by Ophelia London
series, can be read as a stand alone.
(Sugar City #1)
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1SgSsWs
Crush (Sugar City #2)
Ophelia London was born and raised among the redwood trees in beautiful
northern California. Once she was fully educated, she decided to settle in
Florida, but her car broke down in Texas and she’s lived in Dallas ever since.
A cupcake and treadmill aficionado (obviously those things are connected), she
spends her time watching arthouse movies and impossibly trashy TV, while living
vicariously through the characters she writes. Ophelia is the author of the
Sugar City series, including WIFE FOR THE WEEKEND and KISSING HER CRUSH; AIMEE
& THE HEARTTHROB; CHALK LINES & LIPSTICK; DEFINITELY, MAYBE IN LOVE;
the Abby Road series; and the Perfect Kisses series. Visit her at ophelialondon.com. But don’t call when The
Vampire Diaries (or Dawson’s Creek) is on.
This series is a spinoff of the Broken Bonds serial which must be read prior to beginning this first book. Contains spoilers to the Broken Bonds serial.
Detective Ethan Quinn has questions. The Arlington Slasher case is closed, the UNSUB no longer a threat—but Quinn can’t quiet the suspicion he harbors toward his partner and the young, attractive M.E. Not only does he loathe his uncertainty, he’s torn between doing his job and protecting his team.But burying himself in cases no longer works. He’s restless. On edge. And tired of fighting his compulsions. Quinn has always viewed the law in black and white. Only now his world is swirling with a murky gray that threatens to devour him.
When lead medical examiner Avery Johnson careens toward a dangerous path, she pulls the unwitting detective into a dark web of deception and lust, triggered by a spree of recent killings.
Is this new player linked to the Bathory murders, or is it another copycat?
Time almost took Avery from him once before. As the clock ticks, Quinn will stop at nothing to protect her, refusing to let Avery become a victim again. Against his uncompromising logic, Quinn can’t deny his feelings. Avery forces him to acknowledge his darker desires, tempting his control—which weakens with every second he spends with the feisty M.E. as they hunt down the perpetrator threatening to tear them apart.
Catch Up with the first Broken Bonds serial: With Visions of Red – the first book is FREE
Even though I was sad that Sadie and Colton’s story was over, I was very excited to read Quinn and Avery’s story. I had a feeling theirs would be a good one. It’s always hard to say goodbye to characters you love, but I Ms. Wolfe always writes new characters to fall in love with all over again.
When I first read With Visions of Red, I was on the fence with Quinn, not too sure how I felt about him. After reading, With Ties That Bind, I can say I’m a fan. I really enjoyed how Quinn wanted to look out for Avery, he couldn’t help himself and Avery also couldn’t help but be attracted to Quinn.
Ms. Wolfe continued to produce a world full of twists and surprises, there were many things I didn’t see coming. Also, there’s another killer on the loose! I have no idea who he could be, but he seems just as vicious as the UNSUB in the first book. I really can’t wait to read book two to learn more about this new killer.
If you love to read books that are suspenseful and hard to put down, this one is for you!!! One thing you need to know before reading this series is that it is a continuation of the Broken Bond Series; I suggest you read those three books before you read With Ties That Binds.
The windowless room is freezing. Florescent lights hum, echoing off the cinderblock walls and tingeing the too bright, barren room in a sickly green hue. As soon as I was ushered inside, the bag was removed from my head and my lab coat was taken.
The thin blouse I’m left with does nothing to shield me from the frigid air.
I rub my arms to generate heat, giving myself something to concentrate on besides counting the seconds. I’ve only been locked inside for minutes, but panic threatens to pull me under when I imagine it turning into days.
So very different than before, but somehow just as frightening. I’m not shackled. I’m not drugged. I don’t, logically, think these people have the same intentions as my abductor did when he took me…but I can’t say that for certain.
As soon as I think I’m going to lose it and start banging on the steel door, I hear a click, and the door grinds open against the floor.
The man entering is tall and thickly built. He wears a mask. A Jason mask like on the horror movie. And he’s carrying a semiautomatic gun. My stomach plunges, free-fall. I want the bag back over my head.
He jerks his head. “Move. It’s ready.”
What’s ready? But I can’t work up the courage to ask. This man is not manhandling me, and somehow my feet move me in that direction. I’ve just simply lost my mind. So many days spent fearing the world after I was released from the hospital, and what I dreaded could happen—that which I told myself over and over would never happen again—has, in fact, happened.
What else is there left to fear?
I’m almost relieved. Like I’m ready to welcome it. Like I can stop dreading it now.
The masked man stands in the doorway as I cross through. My eyes go wide when I see what’s on the other side of the room.
But unlike any lab I’ve ever worked in. It’s dirty, and smells of death. Not like the death in the morgue, where I’m accustomed to being surrounded by bodies. But a grotesque, sour stench that soaks my pores.
Tables are full of beakers and test tubes. A giant syringe station is setup with thin blue hoses curling down into a large tub. My gaze follows the tubes’ path along the back wall to a large containment unit.
“Welcome, Dr. Johnson.”
I whirl around, trying to locate the source of the deep, gravely voice. Feedback pierces the air, and I look up to find a speaker in the corner.
The voice booms through the room again. “Go ahead. Get comfortable. There’s a coat on the hanger to your left, and goggles on the table.”
I shake my head. “What do you want from me?” I say to the room, hoping this unsettling PA system is two-way.
“It’s what we both want,” the voice responds. “I believe neither of us want any more dead girls littering up our beautiful streets. So you should get to work.”
I turn around and see the man with the gun standing watch at the only exit.
I face forward, lick my lips. “And if I can’t?”
The silence stretches out, endlessly taunting. I’m sure the decision to end my life has already been made. Then: “I really don’t think that’s an option for you, Miss Johnson.” A beat. “Best focus on the task at hand. You have one hour.”
Passion and lust ignite. Dark and light battle. This explosive first installment of the Broken Bonds series sets the exhilarating pace for a cat and mouse game where no one knows who’s really pulling the strings.
Criminal profiler Sadie Bonds knows blood. Her affair with the gruesome, dark world of killers began long before she started applying her analytical skills to investigate gory crime scenes. She gets inside the killers’ heads, breaks them down, relates to them on an arcane level. She prefers it this way—because it’s safer to ally herself with the villain than the victim. At least, that’s how she’s coped ever since she was abducted and tortured as a teen.
She will never be a victim again.
Now, she’s honed her skills in order to bring justice to these ritualistic offenders. Working alongside her colleagues, armed with sharp wit and a SIG, Sadie always catches her sadist. Until one ruthless serial killer gets inside Sadie’s head, turning the tables. He knows her secrets. Her obsessions. The darkest, most deviant part of her soul.
When she meets Colton Reed, dangerous stakes are raised as he threatens to unravel her control and reveal her darkest fantasies. The sexy-as-sin bondage rigger at an exclusive BDSM club pushes her boundaries, forcing her to acknowledge that side of herself she fears. Plunged into a realm of torture and suffering, pain and pleasure, Sadie balances on the razor-sharp edge of two intersecting worlds threatening to swallow her.
The UNSUB has made contact.
After a rapid string of grisly murders shakes the usually peaceful city of Arlington, Virginia, the sadistic killings of young women lull into a deceptive calm. Agent Sadie Bonds knows the terror isn’t over; serial killers don’t stop until caught.
And this sadist has targeted the profiler, revealing pieces of her dark past and weaving her secrets into each gruesome crime scene. Is the killer someone from Sadie’s past, her present? Or is he part of a fated future she brought on herself? The answer lies within the riddle of the copycat killings, ones mimicked after the infamous Blood Countess.
As tension brews in the department awaiting the UNSUB’s next move, Sadie’s more than on edge—her deviant cravings for the possible perpetrator have ratcheted out of control. She needs the feel of Colton’s ropes binding her, sheltering her from stark reality.
Only Colton Reed has his own twisted secrets that threaten to unravel not only Sadie as they come to light, but the UNSUB’s carefully constructed web now entangling both the profiler and her sexy bondage rigger.
Who is the UNSUB?
For Agent Sadie Bonds, finding the answer to that question means the difference between life and death for someone close to her. The UNSUB’s latest abduction reaches right into the heart of the ACPD, forcing every member of the department to search within their ranks for the sadistic perpetrator.
Suspicion not only clouds the task force; it slithers into Sadie and Colton’s bond, challenging their love. Discovering the truth means facing their past together. Sadie’s connection to Colton has quieted her inner demons—but is she strong enough to confront the real monster?
All players take their places as the stage is set for the final scene. With the UNSUB manipulating the game, even Sadie and Colton fall victim, spiraling deep into the darkness that threatens not only their lives, but their trust. As Sadie navigates a tortuous maze, Colton will do whatever is takes to protect her.
The truth will set you free. Only for Sadie, her truth will test the very fabric of her reality. She must silence the threat, or risk losing everything and everyone she loves.
From an early age, Trisha Wolfe dreamed up fantasy worlds and characters and was accused of talking to herself. Today, she lives in South Carolina with her family and writes full time, using her fantasy worlds as an excuse to continue talking to herself.
For more information on Trisha Wolfe and her works, please visit: http://www.TrishaWolfe.com
To be the first to hear about new releases and sale events, sign up for Trisha Wolfe’s Newsletter: http://bit.ly/1rXTKI7
Me: Book Five by Teresa Hill! Be sure to check out the book info, purchase links, and giveaway!
Part Serial Series)
to Me, Book Five
one.Not anymore. I feel reckless, desperate. I love him, and it’s senior year, my
last chance with him before I leave for college, so I’m going to take it.
What could go wrong? Oh, my God, I had no idea.
PETER: I’ve spent years trying to hide how I feel about her. It
gets harder every day.
For so long, she was my best friend, the first person who truly believed
in me, sometimes the only one.
Do I love her? Of course, I do. Can I let her get even deeper into the
hellacious mess my life is?
No way. You don’t do that to someone you love.
like I was saving myself for her.Not that way. Not sexually. Saving my life. Trying to be smart about what I do.
Actually giving a damn. Because I matter to her. It’s something I’ve never had
— anyone who cares like she does — and it’s absolutely amazing.
She’s amazing, this very good girl I can not have. Her dad made that clear the
night he caught us together, but that’s not enough to stop me from me from wanting
Still, it would be a completely selfish move on my part to draw her any deeper
into my life. I just heard my mom’s getting out of prison early. Not for good
behavior. Because of overcrowding. Life was always crazy with mom. If she comes
back, if she wants me back, my life turns to crap. I know that, and at sixteen,
I don’t think I can do anything about it, except maybe run as far and fast as I
can. Even Dana, my very good girl, won’t be able to save me.
to Me, Book One
shadows of the Blue Ridge Mountains with a patient, very understanding husband,
one very loud cat and two beautiful, lazy dogs, usually at Teresa’s side or
under her feet.Born in Central Kentucky, growing up in a town where the public library was
housed in an old church, Teresa came to believe books were sacred things and
that being a writer would be the best profession in the world.
Now a three-time Rita nominee and USA Today Bestselling Author, she has written
forty books of romance and women’s fiction, with more than 2 million copies in
print, for NAL/Onyx, Silhouette, Harlequin and Steeple Hill.
Connect with Teresa