Thursday, July 31, 2014

Cover Reveal: Erin McCarthy's Let Me In Book 3 in the Blurred Line Series



A girl in danger…
Aubrey Walsh never dreamed that she would find herself in an abusive relationship, but after her boyfriend hits her so hard he breaks her tooth, she flees the University of Maine to hide on a remote island with her best friend.  Only to discover that she is pregnant.  Terrified of what will happen if Jared finds out, she is walking along the rocks, deciding her future, when she slips.
A guy with a secret past…
After a job gone wrong, Riker has left the assassin business and is incognito as a ferryboat operator off the shores of Maine.  It’s a lonely life, and when he sees a young woman almost fall off the rocks, he doesn’t hesitate to save her and take her in, though he’s determined to stay unemotionally uninvolved.  But when the truth about her situation is revealed, he will do anything to protect Aubrey and her unborn child.
Even marry her. Even kill for her.
When Jared comes looking for the only girl who has ever rejected him, Riker won’t allow it.  And Aubrey is torn between protecting herself and her child, or protecting the mysterious husband she has come to love.
And when chance brings them together but fate tears them apart, can their love survive the storm?

USA Today and New York Times Bestselling author Erin McCarthy sold her first book in 2002 and has since written almost fifty novels and novellas in teen fiction, new adult, and adult romance. Erin has a special weakness for New Orleans, tattoos, high-heeled boots, beaches and martinis. She lives in Ohio with her family, two grumpy cats and a socially awkward dog.
 Author links:


Blog Tour: Iron Sinners by HJ Bellus

Author: H.J. Bellus
Series: Sinners Never Die, Book 1
Griff, aka Grizz, the ideal Iron Sinner, rides hard and dedicates his all to the club. 

A job needs done…he does it. 
Men idolize him. 
Women love him. 

Never shy and always up for a good time, Grizz finds himself jumping from mattress to mattress and digging grave after grave. You want to take a bullet? Cross the club. 

One night, rival MC, Devil’s Idol, do just that. Grizz and Animal are sent to straighten shit out while leaving no witnesses. What Grizz faces that night changes his life forever… 

Piper Jones is in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The ruthless business woman, finds herself captive by the MC club. But she’s not one to go down without a fight. 

She slowly destroys Grizz, from his bad boy persona, to his ride or die motto. He should want nothing more than to do away with her with a single bullet. Instead, he finds himself giving his all just to be with her. 

Will Grizz be able to walk away from the one thing he swore he never wanted?



Iron Sinners is not your typical MC book and some may not get it, but I sure did.  Piper was in the wrong place at the wrong time, unless you believe it was time for her to make a change and meeting Grizz was the best thing that happened to her.


Grizz, pissed me off several times in this book because he just could not keep his d*ck out of everything around even with Piper right there.  She insane in my opinion for just letting him get away with it, but it is also important for the story.


Grizz finally figures out how much he cares for her and does what he can to help her and help his MC club that has always had his back.  There is suspense in this book that will have you turning the pages to find out what happens next and trying to see if these 2 ever get a HEA.  I hope there is more to this series about some of the other MC members and to see what is going on with Grizz and Piper.


“Who the fuck do you think you are,” I yell as the large man throws me onto the bed.
“Your worst fucking nightmare, sweetie pie.”
“Just let me go, please.”
“Not happening,” he says as he sits on the bed and begins to untie his boots.
“I didn’t see anything. I don’t know names or places. Let me go. I have a very important meeting in the morning,” I beg.
“Not happening,” he replies again.
“Let. Me. Fucking. Go,” I roar, as I sling the Bible from the nightstand and nail him in the back of the head.
“Listen here, bitch, you’re now property of the Iron Sinners motorcycle club. You ain’t fucking going nowhere without one of us. Got it? You witnessed a fucking crime that could put a fellow brother away for life. You’ve been spotted with us by a rival club. You are now marked as a motherfucking Sinner. You leave our side and the Idols will put a really shiny bullet straight through your skull. You’re a walking, talking dead bitch just waiting to get popped. So shut the fuck up.”
Did I just really hear him he say property of the sinners? Bullet in my head?
“So, you’re telling me I have a ticking death threat that could expire at any given moment?”
The man stands, faces me, baring all of his ink and replies, “And I forgot to add shut the fuck up.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
He comes closer in an intimidating stance and bends down so we are face to face. “Does any of this read as if I were kidding you, bitch?”
His minty breath reverberates off my skin and envelops all of my senses. He was the bad guy and I, the victim, but god damn he’s gorgeous.
“Let me fucking go. I don’t care about any of that shit.”
I lunge forward off the bed, catapulting myself into his chest and begin my fight to escape. My surprise assault knocks him off balance and he falls back on the bed. I run for the door. Fuck! My bag. I take three steps back, grab my bag, and run.
Halfway out of the parking lot, I'm brought down by my hair.
“You dumb cunt. What part of my speech didn’t you get?” the man growls in my face.
He rips me up by the hair and drags me back to the room.
“I’m done playing nice. You want to run and piss me the fuck off, then you’re going to be treated like a fucking piece of trash.”


H.J. Bellus

I am just a simple country girl getting one story out of my head at a time. I was raised in small town, USA and still reside there with my husband and children. I am a huge country music fan and am inspired by it everyday. I live and love country life, and you will find those elements in my books. I also adore strong and brave lead female characters, and strive to be a courageous and independent woman in everyday life. In my opinion, life is no fun without a good sense of humor, sprinkles, cheese whiz, and candy. It is the simple things that warm my heart. 
Live life your way, HJ Bellus 

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Book Blitz: Sempre Mine

Award Winning author, Lizzy Ford, gives us an emotional, sexy read with her first Sons of War novel, SEMPER MINE.

A Marine captain tortured by the death of his men in Iraq returns home and falls in love with the sister of one of the slain, who blames him for the massacre that killed her brother.  SEMPER MINE, is a standalone novel in the Sons of War contemporary military romance series.


Want to get to know Lizzy better? Check out this exclusive interview!


“A freak accident landed both of the Khavalov twins under my command, just before a routine mission turned into a nightmare. I brought home one twin in a coffin and the other in a coma missing his leg. I did everything right – and still people died. I can’t forget that night or how many lives it changed, including mine.


It’s natural for their sister, Katya, to blame me. I made one decision in the middle of a firefight, and it shattered her sheltered world. I’m the ice to her fire, and when we first meet, it’s not pretty. I don’t fear war or death, and I am definitely not going to let a beautiful woman with a quick temper and broken heart scare me off, either. I know she’s hurting, and I’m determined to make sure she’s okay. It’s the least I can do for the twins.


I may have failed them that night, but I won’t fail her. What I’m not counting on: the feelings she ignites within me.” – Captain Sawyer Mathis



Also in the Sons of War series: SOLDIER MINE, coming fall 2014!


About Lizzy Ford:

Lizzy Ford is the author of over thirty books written for young adult and  adult romance readers, to include the internationally bestselling “Rhyn Trilogy,” “Witchling Series” and the “War of Gods” series. Lizzy has focused on keeping her readers happy by producing brilliant, gritty romances that remind people why true love is a trial worth enduring. Lizzy’s books can be found on every major ereader library, to include: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, Sony and Smashwords. She lives in southern Arizona with her husband, three dogs and a cat.


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Release Day: Strip Teaser by Ava Manello

Strip Teaser (Naked Night's #1)
By Ava Manello

Genre:  Erotic, Humour

Cover Designer: Margreet Asselbergs

When investigative reporter Sally Evans receives her latest assignment to uncover the naked truth, she gets more than she bargained for. Eight weeks on tour with the Naked Nights male stripper troupe to expose all their dirty secrets, is this serious reporter's worst nightmare. She'd rather a man keep his clothes on. For Sally, sex is only a consideration if it happens in the dark, not that she can remember the last time she had a reason to turn the lights off. With over-eager, over-sexed female fans in abundance and baby oil by the gallon, the guys are looking forward to some fun.... Sally's inhibitions are not.

Strip Teaser Playlist

Strip Teaser - Fan Trailer
Passionate reader, blogger, publisher, and author. I love nothing more than helping other Indie authors publish their books be that reviewing, beta reading, formatting or proofreading,  I love erotic suspense that's well written and engages the reader, and I love promoting the heck out of it over on my book blog.
I'm a mother, but most of all I'm me!

Stalk Ava Manello

Twitter: @avamanello

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Cover Reveal: Can't Let Go by Michelle Lynn



Dex is many things, a college senior, the bassist for The Invisibles, a son, a friend, everything but a boyfriend. Everybody knows him as the shallow guy who’s up for a good time anytime. People rarely take the time to see the loyal guy lying just beneath the happy-go-lucky façade.

There are parts of Dex’s life he keeps hidden. Ones he believes no one would understand. Since he gave up on the idea of a dream girl long ago, he thinks he’s finally found the perfect balance of connection without commitment with Sam.

Chrissy used to know everything about Dex. When he left four years ago for college, she was left behind. Four years later, with nowhere else to turn, Chrissy calls the one person she’s always counted on, Dex. One glance at the sad eyes he’s tried to forget and Dex knows it’s out of his control.

With Chrissy's return, lines begin to cross from friendship to something more, but will Dex's secret force them apart forever?

(Can't Let Go is the fourth novel in the Invisibles Series)


Michelle moved around the Midwest most of her life, transferring from school to school before settling down in the outskirts of Chicago ten years ago, where she now resides with her husband and two kids.  She developed a love of reading at a young age, which helped lay the foundation for her passion to write.   With the encouragement of her family, she finally sat down and wrote one of the many stories that have been floating around in her head. 

When she isn’t reading or writing, she can be found playing with her kids, talking to her mom on the phone, or hanging out with her family and friends.  But after chasing around twin preschoolers all day, she always cherishes her relaxation time after putting the kids to bed.


Don’t Let Go (Book #1)

Amazon ==>

Let Me In (Book #2)

Amazon ==>

B&N ==>

Let Me Love (Book #3)

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Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Black Collar Empire by A.N. Latro

Today we are revealing the cover for BLACK COLLAR EMPIRE by A.N. Latro, but there's also a bonus! We are also revealing 2 novellas in the series -- BLACK COLLAR BEGINNINGS: CUBA and BLACK COLLAR BEGINNINGS: NEW YORK.

All of these books will be released on Thursday, August 21st.

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000026_00051]



After two years away, Seth Morgan has returned to New York, desperate to honor his father's dying wish for a unified family. But the heir’s welcome is sadly lacking: his family’s criminal empire is divided, the woman he loves hates him, and his brother Caleb has become a cold stranger.

When a brotherly spat becomes a vicious misunderstanding that ends with Caleb dead, Seth is left reeling, and unsure who to trust. Emma Morgan grew up while her closest cousin was away. She’s been sheltered her entire life from the realities of their family—something Seth has every intention of changing upon his return. But not everyone in the syndicate is happy to have Seth home, and there are secrets surrounding Caleb’s murder. The deeper Seth and Emma dig, the clearer it becomes that not everyone shares their dream for the Morgan Syndicate, and not everyone wants the heir to ascend.
Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000026_00051]
BLACK COLLAR BEGINNINGS: CUBA GOODREADS LINK:   BLACK COLLAR BEGINNINGS: CUBA BLURB Alone in Cuba, Seth Morgan isn’t mafia royalty—he’s a thug with a gun, and everything to prove. When the shadowy kingpin behind the Cuban syndicate finally takes notice, nothing in Seth’s world will ever be the same. Before the Empire, there was exile. A novella, set just before Black Collar Empire.
Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000026_00051]
BLACK COLLAR BEGINNINGS: NEW YORK GOODREADS LINK:   BLACK COLLAR BEGINNINGS: NEW YORK BLURB: Caleb Morgan is the black sheep of the family. Two years of his brother’s absence has left him cold and alone—except for Emma, the youngest Morgan. Because with Seth gone, there is no one else to teach—or protect—their innocent cousin. But teaching isn’t always pretty—not in family who peddles in crime.
Author Bio: AN Latro loves good wine and the ocean, and prefers to write with both. She has a passion for bad boys in books, and stories that make you feel. She can most often be found along the Florida coast.

Scorned and Jealouly by S.L. Scott

From the Inside Out
Chapter 1
March 12th
I hate Ethan Porter. I hate him with all my soul and every fiber, muscle, and nerve of my being. He broke me and my heart simulataneously, destroying everything I knew my life to be. Over the course of the next year, my friend, Brandon, had to put me back together. Piece by piece, he glued me back into a semblance of what I used to be before I knew Ethan, or so I thought. But I didn’t realize he was also bonding himself to me in the process, until one night when my friend became my lover. Brandon never should have played that role, especially since I was still too broken to be good for anyone else. So we went back to being friends, my lover returning to the role of friend again because I needed a friend more than a lover.

            Tonight, as I watch Ethan across the restaurant, I feel a rush of emotions and memories, the last conversation we had starting to pull me under.
“I hate you. I hate you for making me take this job. I hate you for making me buy that car. I hate this apartment and the furniture. I hate everything that you made me do because you wanted it that way.” Lately, you’ve replaced the word love with hate. You’ve used it generously in the last week and more than a few times tonight, five in the last minute.
He doesn’t know I’m in the same restaurant. Fortunately he hasn’t seen me. When my hand twitches, I realize I’ve pulled my phone from my purse, subconsciously to help diffuse the panic attack before it hits. I refuse to let it hit or call Brandon every time I start freaking out over Ethan.
This isn’t a restaurant I frequent and being in the same place as him after three years is completely coincidental. I’ve lost my appetite, so I push the plate of food in front of me away.
I glance over at him and her—red hair, red nails, red lips, red shoes, too tight red dress, red clutch perched on the table next to her glass of red wine. I roll my eyes, everything about her is so cliché and boring, and predictable for a man to be attracted to her.
Her eyes meet mine and I look away. In that glimpse, I saw that her eyes are light colored, maybe blue, probably blue.
Mine are Hazel—green on a good day, brown on most.
The one I want to see deep down has his back to me. He hasn’t seen me in three years and it makes me wonder if he ever did even when we were together. I don’t know and I hate to think about that time… the times when it was bad.
“I hate my life. I hate this life… with you,” you yell at me.
I. Hate. You. That’s all I gather from you. I ask, “Have you met someone else?”
“God damn it, Juliette! This is about you and me, not anyone else.”
You turn your back when you shout, which makes me question your truthfulness since I can’t see your eyes. Do I speak again or let you wrap this up on your own? I’m at a loss here. My phone rings, making both of us look over at it. You’re not happy about the intrusion, though I’m relieved by the interruption.
“I have to get that.” I walk across the living room and pick it up.
But before I can answer, you say, “Get it. I’m done here anyway.” My eyes lift from the gallery’s number flashing on the screen back to yours that are looking down. “We’re done.” You leave on that note, walking into the bedroom and leaving me to take my call.
“This is Juliette.” I walk out of the apartment to give you time. You seem to need it right now. It doesn’t occur to me until I’m outside that spring has arrived and the white snapdragons are in bloom in the park across the street.
After many reassurances of my return to work, I hang up the phone and realize that you won’t be there when I get home. Is it even home without you there? You meant what you said and I’m at a loss... again. I’m losing you. I’m losing my heart. I’m losing my other half.
I’ve forgotten now if it was ever good? If I dig deep, really deep past the pain that was inflicted and the scars that remain, it was. It was blissful and perfect. I felt loved. I felt pretty. I felt whole. We were more good than bad, but now only the bad remains.
Glancing back to the table, I see her eyes on me again. Quickly, I dig out a fifty and toss it on the table. That will easily cover my bill, even at an over-priced, too-trendy-to-be-considered-trendy-any-longer establishment on the Upper West Side.
My eyes meet hers one more time. I hope mine don’t give anything away. Things like: how I know what you look like when you fall apart underneath me, how you love for me to touch you there, but not go further, deeper, and how your eyes match the blue skies right before a storm rolls in. I know all these things because I’ve experienced them with you. I know you, the real you.
Does she?
The last look I allow myself is of you, just you, blocking her from my focus. Your hair is styled. You always had great hair and still do even despite the hateful curses I had over the years for you to go bald. The light starch to your shirt proves you haven’t changed. You insisted the perfection, but still wanted to be comfortable in your clothes. The large face of your watch gleams under the track lighting above. You were always very confident… or cocky. I’m not sure which anymore. My memories on that subject have somewhat faded, overtaken by more harmful ones.
As I walk through the intimate tables of the dining area, I look over at her one last time. It’s easier to look at her than you. You hold too much pain, more than I can endure tonight. She nods to you while smiling as if to tell you silently that I’m watching, as if to tell you, you have an admirer. I’m not an admirer. I’m an adversary—the enemy—the person you hate the most in the world if I recall your words correctly.
I push the door open and the cool night air hits me. Spring is on the verge of springing but hasn’t sprung. I wrap my arms around myself and head south.
Hearing your voice causes my insides to freeze, but my feet keep moving. I don’t respond. Juliette. Do I even know that Juliette anymore?
“Juliette? Is that you?”
I hear your footsteps.  They quicken but I refuse to respond to careless niceties you probably feel obligated to dole out.
Why do you try?
Why do you care?
What do you want?
“Hey!” You shout from a distance, planting yourself in a spot on the sidewalk, not chasing. I’m walking in four-inch Prada. You could catch me if you wanted. You don’t want to though. That much is obvious.
Rounding another corner, I find safety in the shadows of the building. Walking. Walking. Walking. No Ethan and no more Juliette. Just walking until I reach my comfort zone.
My hand is shaking although I’m standing in front of my building.
One ring.
Two rings.
“Hey, Jules, it’s kind of late for a social call.”
My heart calms and I smile. “You love hearing from me and you know it.”
He laughs. “Yes, I do. Anytime, day or night for you.”
“Can I come over?”
I hear shuffling. He’s looking at the time. I know he is. It’s only ten-fifteen.
“Of course. Is everything alright?”
“Buzz me in.”
“You’re already here?”
“Where’s your key?”
“Buzz me in.”
The lock releases and the door is opened without further question. He knows when not to push. He’s great like that.
I climb the two flights, running out of breath after the rushed walk home. When I walk in, I set my purse on the table by the window. I like the view from his apartment because it’s the opposite of mine. It gives me a new perspective. He leans against the kitchen archway. It’s a comforting design feature in the otherwise modern apartment. “The spare room has fresh sheets or you can always crash in my room,” he says like he’s joking, but I know he’s not.
The offer makes me smile, but just slightly. No longer lovers. “We’re better as friends,” I gently remind.
He crosses his arms over his chest, and says, “No harm in trying.”
Always harm. There’s always harm. It’s never easy. It’s never gotten easier.
He’s watching me with his intense dark eyes. His eyes are blue, but so different from yours. His are the deepest oceans and yours the sky above.
The weight of his gaze lays heavy on me, scanning my back as I look out over the street, spotting a pocket view of the park. I turn. “I’m tired.”
“You know where everything is.”
“I do.”
I breeze past him as if I own the place. In a way I do. It’s a second home to me. I have some of my things, my belongings stashed around, in the bathroom, in the bedroom—the guest bedroom. My vitamins reside in the kitchen. Just things, inconsequential things.
I stop in the doorway to the guest room before I disappear for the night. “Thank you.”
“You’re always welcome here, but next time, use your key.”
That makes me smile, a real one, genuine in its roots. “Goodnight, Brandon.”
“Sweet dreams, Jules.”
My dreams aren’t sweet. I’m restless, even here at his place. I used to find solace, but your intrusion into my life tonight has caused an imbalance in my world. Memories of the night you left me flood my dreams…
Reality strikes hard at the exhibit. I lose my mind and my new client when I breakdown in the back room behind what I thought were closed doors and cry. My tears ruined his masterpiece—a piece the artist just painted live in front of the potential customers. I had just sold the painting and pulled it from the collection at the request of a buyer.
Reflexively, I rub the canvas with my hand in an attempt to wipe the tears away but the paint smears under my touch.
I’m called unprofessional and careless, and in his fit of rage, the artist refuses to work with me again. My tears costing him a five thousand dollar reward for his talents and time. The loss of the love of my life cost me more. He didn’t seem to care about that. Artists can be testy that way. He broke the frame and trashed the painting when the buyer pulled out of the deal, not wanting my common problems splattered on his masterpiece.
When I return home late that night, the car is not parked out front or anywhere on our street and the apartment is bare. But you hated that car and you hated the furniture. You hated your life and mine, you hated yourself and me. You said so and yet, you still took it away. You took it all with you except for me.
Nothing remains in the place we called home except a twenty-five dollar coffee maker and my clothes dumped on the floor because you decided to take the dresser.
I kick off my shoes and go to make myself a cup of coffee. You took the beans that I had freshly ground this morning. I now have a coffeepot with no coffee to go in it. I drop to the floor in the kitchen and fall apart, completely apart, my heart shattering into a million pieces. The gallery breakdown was just the predecessor of what was to come and this apparently is what was to come. This was the remains of my life, the end as I knew it. In the course of a ten hour absence, my life was packed and moved to another location, an unknown location.
Was this planned?
For how long?
Movers on the same day?
A storage unit or another apartment waiting for you?
It seems too organized, premeditated.
I held the black coffee maker in my arms and cradled myself around it, needing to hold onto something tangible and this was all that was left. This was all I had to show for a life that was built on love but died in misunderstandings and lies.