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Friday, October 31, 2014

Tied to You by Bibi Paterson


SYNOPSIS 

Olivia Walker has just hit rock bottom. About to lose her job and become homeless, she can’t see a way out of the mess her life has become until Alex Davenport enters her life with a proposal she is in no position to refuse.
Wealthy and arrogant, Alex is used to getting whatever he wants and he has set his eyes on Olivia. For months he has watched her, waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself to make her his, and finally it has appeared. But Alex is hiding a secret, one that he is determined to protect until, one day, Olivia makes a discovery that sets her on a course of self-discovery. Together they explore Olivia’s submissive side, pushing boundaries and taking her on the wildest ride of her life.
But when Olivia’s past threatens to expose Alex’s secret lifestyle, the time for truths and full disclosure is at hand. Can Alex let go of the fears that have bound his true nature? And can a couple that fell in lust find their own happily ever after?
Warning: This book is intended for mature audiences as it contains explicit sex scenes and BDSM themes.
                        
  
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EXCERPT 
“We’re leaving,” Alex states in a tone that brooks no argument. I merely nod in reply and let him lead me to the cloakroom to fetch my wrap, and then we are sitting in the car, being driven home. The tension between us is thick, yet neither of us has said a word. I glance up at Alex under my eyelashes and see his jaw clenched and an expression that I can’t fathom in his eyes. Every fibre of my being is hyper-aware of Alex’s masculinity, and a dull throb sits between my legs. I squirm in my seat, trying to find a little relief, when suddenly I am aware of Alex’s scrutiny. His eyes bore through me, yet the expression on his face remains a neutral mask. A smirk appears as he runs his eyes over my body and I find my nipples hardening under my dress.
We have no sooner pulled up in front of the house than Alex is pulling me from the car and into the house. The door slams shut behind us and for a moment we both just look at each other, lost in the inevitable. And then Alex speaks. “Turn around, Olivia.” The command is issued in a low, gravelly voice, completely at odds with Alex’s regular teasing tone. The use of my full name startles me, and before I can think further, my body is already obeying. I stand still, my eyes staring up the stairs, as we stand in the frigid hallway, and I wait with bated breath. A few moments pass and all I can hear is our breathing.
Suddenly I am aware of Alex’s arms coming over my shoulders and unhooking the cape at my throat. It slithers to the floor, and for a heartbeat, the world stops spinning on its axis. I shiver as I feel Alex’s warm breath on my neck as, ever so slowly, he pulls down the zip of my gown. “Put your arms out and hold on to the end of the bannister,” he instructs gruffly. I comply without rational thought, quietly awaiting his next command. The single movement has my dress pooling at my feet as I lean forward to grip the smooth wooden post. Large, agile hands skim down my sides until they rest on my hips and I am very much aware that my arse is now in the air, the angle of my body on my heels offering direct access to my damp, aching pussy. The hands follow a leisurely pace down the backs of my thighs and calves, until they reach my ankles. “Lift your foot and then the other,” Alex orders. I comply and he pulls the dress out from around my feet, discarding it in a heap by the front door.
I glance back down at Alex, but immediately he notices. “Eyes forward,” he barks, and I whip my head back around, my heart thumping in my ears. The cold of the hallway has raised goose bumps over my skin and I am shivering ever so slightly. I feel Alex stand behind me, heat radiating from his frame making the cold more tolerable, and then I hear him shedding his own clothes. My body is feeling ultra-sensitive, and the moment his hand snakes around my waist and deft fingers find my clit, I let out a low groan, as the warmth starts to spread across my pelvis. His pelvis pushes into my arse and I can feel the huge length of him grinding between my butt cheeks. Suddenly, Alex’s other hand is grabbing my breast, pulling it from the confines of my strapless bra and, almost painfully, squeezing my nipple. Teeth nip at my ear and neck as he forces my head back, my back arching as I try to maintain my balance.
“I don’t make love,” Alex hisses into my ear. “I fuck, I root, I shag…but I don’t do soft and I don’t do sweet. Do you understand, Olivia?” I nod my head, a thousand conflicting thoughts swirling around my head. “If you want this to stop, you need to say so now…” he trails off and waits for my answer. My brain is telling me that this is all a bit weird, that this is not what I want, but my treacherous body has other ideas and so I keep silent.
               

AUTHOR BIO
Bibi is a former marketing executive and mum to a gorgeous little girl currently residing just north of London. She recently spent a year living it up on the beaches of Western Australia and her hobbies include consuming copious amounts of coffee and chocolate, building cardboard castles and creating stories in her head.
Inspired from a young age, her love for literature started with Enid Blyton and her Secret Seven. Since then a voracious appetite for books has brought her a world full of heroes, love, murder, betrayal and the odd vampire thrown in for good cause.
 Having long admired those brave enough to put pen to paper, or in this modern age of computing, keyboard to screen, she has finally started telling the sexy stories that she has been keeping locked up in her head all this time.








Prisoner by Annika Martin & Skye Warren

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Title: Prisoner 
Authors: Annika Martin, Skye Warren 
Date of publication: October 23, 2014
 
About Prisoner
He seethes with raw power the first time I see him—pure menace and rippling muscles in shackles. He’s dangerous. He’s wild. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. So I hide behind my prim glasses and my book like I always do, because I have secrets too. Then he shows up in the prison writing class I have to teach, and he blows me away with his honesty. He tells me secrets in his stories, and it’s getting harder to hide mine. I shiver when he gets too close, with only the cuffs and the bars and the guards holding him back. At night I can’t stop thinking about him in his cell. But that’s the thing about an animal in a cage—you never know when he’ll bite. He might use you to escape. He might even pull you into a forest and hold a hand over your mouth so you can’t call for the cops. He might make you come so hard, you can’t think. And you might crave him more than your next breath. "Sexy, dark and thrilling. I loved every second of it!" ~ New York Times bestselling author Katie Reus “Dark, sexy, and intense, Prisoner is an emotional ride that does not let go until the end. I loved it!” ~ USA Today bestselling author Kristen Callihan  

Q&A with Annika and Skye

  Where do you find your inspiration? 
Annika: You know those juicy, thrilling scenes in books or movies that you just love to pieces? And you think about them long after? Those sorts of scenes, and the huge emotions around them really inspire me. I love to feel that high-point thrill, and to create books around those moments. A lot of times I start with imagining an exciting scene I want to write and the book goes somewhere else completely, but the kernel, the inspiration still remains buried deep down. 

How did you come up with the idea for this story? 
Skye: Prisoner was my first collaboration with author Annika Martin. She and I first met because I’d read her books (love them!) and she read mine. We were both in a boxed set together, MAKE ME. We were chatting over email and came up with the idea to write a book together. We knew it would be edgy, and dark, and also fun! And so, Prisoner was born.

  Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
Annika: A lot of writers hate revising and love first drafts, but I’m the opposite – I am crazy about revising--I like to mold and change things in big ways once the words are there. But I write a sloooooow and grueling first draft, and I daydream a lot and change my mind a lot. It’s a total challenge! That was one really nice thing about writing in a team—knowing Skye was at the other end, expecting me to come up with something new and exciting every day was kind of nice. But getting those first words down is hard and slow for me.

  What is for you the perfect book hero? 
  Skye: I like them intimidating. Competent. Vaguely sinister and smug. Possessive. Harsh. Cold. Hot. I like them everything that is mean and cruel, even with the heroine. And then… when he stops, when sex and intimacy and love force him to stop, the clouds part. The sun rises on grass still sticky with dew. It paints the world in orange light and long shadows, hinting at what is to come. And that’s the end of the book. Not a wedding. Not a happily ever after. The ending is hope. 

  Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp? 
Annika: There are themes that writers return to over and over. One of my themes I return to, even when I’m not trying, is two super messed-up people finding love with each other, and being messed up together, and loving each other for their flaws (and not getting rid of them, because to me, flaws are what make people who they are!) So I guess my message is, even if you feel like you’re really screwed up, being really and truly yourself is beautiful and you deserve love.

  Tell us about your first book. What would readers find different about the first one and your most recent published work? 
Skye: My first dark book was Keep Me Safe… and god, I hope readers see that I’ve grown as a writer. But at the same time, I hope I’ve kept the core of what people liked about Keep Me Safe, the dark atmospheric setting and deep character exploration. Both of those are hopes—but I’d love to hear from the readers who have kept with me and hear what they think! 

  Does music play any type of role in your writing? 
Annika: Definitely. I write now and then at coffee shops and if there are people talking around me, I need to put in earbuds and crank the music. I have specific songs I just loop over and over, usually dark and melodic. Also, I love to run after a hard day at the writing desk, and I crank the tunes and just zone out to the music and that’s when I get my best ideas. 

  What books have influenced your life most? 
  Skye: The books that influence me the most have a super strong voice—and perspective. Broken by Megan Hart, Comfort Food by Kitty Thomas, and anything by my cowriter Annika Martin, who also writes as Carolyn Crane.

  Can you share a little of your current work with us? 
  Annika: And even though he’s broad and heavy, especially because of that, it feels like a caress. His whole body embraces me, his mouth on mine, his hands on mine, his legs straddling my thighs. I’m wrapped in a cocoon made only of Grayson, where it smells like musk and tastes like man and wipes away every thought I should have. Like getting away. Like fighting him. Or longer pasted at end…. 

  Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers? 
 Thank you!!!  
Excerpt

I back up until the truck stops me. I’m sweating, but the hot metal is almost a relief. Warmer and more human than the flesh-and-blood beast that looms in front of me. But I have something to say too. Something true. And I want him to listen. “You might hurt me. You might touch me. But I will never, ever touch you. Not of my own free will.” I’m shaking by the time I’m finished talking. Tears are threatening again, but I don’t care about them. They don’t make me weak. I know what real weakness is. I saw it inject itself with drugs and hook up with abusive men just to get its fix. I watched it die. That will never be me. Never. He reaches up to cup my cheek—the side without the scrape. On purpose? I don’t know. He trails his thumb over my eyebrow and down my temple. Places he couldn’t touch when I had my glasses. Like he’s learning me, mapping my face. The inside of my chest feels bright and quivery, but I keep my frown. “So I can touch you?” he asks gently. “But you won’t touch me back.” My voice trembles. “I didn’t say that.” “Didn’t you?” His hand trails lower, down my neck. Goose bumps rise all across my chest and over my arms despite the heat. He caresses my skin right where my collarbone is, softly, with the back of his knuckles. I clench my fists at my sides, dreading what comes next. He’s going to keep moving lower, until he’s touching my breasts. And then what will I do? Cry? Scream? There’s no one to hear me. The guy from the truck has disappeared over the ridge. I let my eyes close. “Stop.” “You don’t want this.” His tone is conversational. “I hate you.” “What do you want, then?” “I want you to die. I want to hurt you. I want you to let me go.” He laughs softly, a puff of breath against my forehead. “In that order?” My teeth clench together. “Take your pick.” “You know what I think, Abby? I can call you that, right? It’s cute. Like you.” His hand curves to the side, feathering light touches along the cashmere of my sweater. He grips my hip as if we’re dancing. And we are dancing. It’s a sick song he plays. “I think you want to fix me. That’s what you were doing at the prison. That’s what you’re doing now. But the thing is, Abby, it’s not going to work.”   

  About the Authors

Annika Annika Martin I'm a pet wrangler, bookworm, mediocre tennis player and hairstyle failure. And yes, an author, but I promise not to spam you if you friend me! I live just a stone's throw from the Mississippi with my husband and two beloved cats in a home full of plants, sunshine, books and cookie crumbs. By day, I'm a freelancer in the business world. In addition to being smutty Annika, I write urban fantasy under the pen name Carolyn Crane.  


Skyeauthorpic   Skye Warren Skye Warren writes unapologetic erotica, including power play or erotic pain and sometimes dubious consent. There's struggle in the sex. There's pain in the relationships. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.







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Dirty Deeds by Lorelei James

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Title: Dirty Deeds
Author: Lorelei James

Did you know that South Dakota is the ONLY state in the US that changed the name of Columbus day to Native American Day? It's the truth - google if you don't believe us!
 
About Dirty Deeds
When good, clean fun just isn’t an option.
Just once, good girl Tate Cross wants to experience a red-hot, no-strings-attached affair. She’s temporarily left her graphic artist position in Denver to settle her aunt’s estate in Spearfish, South Dakota, but the city won’t let her sell the property until the landscaping is up to snuff. The Native American landscape contractor her friend highly recommends looks like he can meet all her needs, in the flowerbed and out.
Nathan LeBeau believes few women look at the Native American man beneath the filthy work clothes and hard hat. When Tate offers to trade art lessons for dirt work, the tempting subtext is as plain as the lettering on the side of Nathan’s truck. But in truth, he’s tired of relationships based solely on sex. His goal of proving he’s not completely hopeless in matters of the heart is second only to his dream of expanding his business.
It figures. Tate wants no-holds-barred sex right about the time the one-time Casanova wants a good old-fashioned romance. Bring on the battle of wills!
This book has been previously published.
Warning: A reformed bad boy who wants a taste of real love, and a good girl who wants just one taste of the wild side—and she’s willing to drive a hard bargain to get what she wants.
 
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JODIE'S REVIEW

This is a sweet, loveable, easy flowing story which will keep you page turning because who doesn't love a good girl turned bad..... Tate Cross just wants no strings hot and dirty fun and Nathan LeBeau should be the perfect candidate with his chequered dirty past.... but Nathan wants all hearts and flowers not just no strings....
This story is a real battle of wills and wants.... personally I felt this story was a little predictable and wasn't has hot and steamy as I hoped for but then I love flat out filth haha, but it was a quick, easy read....


About Lorelei James
Lorelei James is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary erotic western romances set in the modern day Wild West and also contemporary erotic romances. Lorelei's books have been nominated for and won the Romantic Times Reviewer's choice Award, as well as the CAPA Award. Lorelei lives in western South Dakota with her family...and a whole closet full of cow girl boots.
Why do I have a particular fondness for all things western? Well, I'm a fourth generation South Dakotan, living in the Black Hills, which is chock-full of interesting characters, including cowboys, Indians, ranchers, and bikers. The geographical diversity of the surrounding area showcases mountains, plains, and badlands. Living in and writing about rural settings gives me a unique perspective, especially since I'm not writing historical westerns. Through my fictional world, I can show the ideals and the cowboy way of life are still very much alive.  
 

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The Hart Family by Ella Fox Complete Series Release Day Blitz






ONLY $0.99


EXCERPT

Broken Hart excerpt
Raising my eyes to him, I checked to see if he was noticing what was happening, only to find his eyes blazing back into mine.  The look he gave me was pure combustible heat, and it left me with absolutely no doubt that he felt whatever was happening too.
He shook his head as though he was trying to clear it, and returned to massaging as I closed my eyes and tried to process what the hell was happening—and my reaction to it.   When he rubbed the arch of my foot again, I couldn’t help it, and I moaned.  My eyes snapped open, and I prayed that maybe he hadn’t heard me.  
His hand slid from the arch of my foot up to my left ankle as his other hand gripped my right ankle.  Using my ankles as leverage, he jerked me toward him. I wasn’t dumb and I knew what that meant.  Clearly, he had heard me. I was trying to process all of that as he bent forward and kissed first one knee, then the other.
I took a shocked breath and my jaw dropped as I stared at the top of his head.  Raising his eyes to mine, Dante asked, “Rina.  I want this.  Do you?”
The line was shockingly easy to cross.
Looking him straight in the eye I answered honestly and without hesitation. “Yes.  God, yes.”


Loving Hart excerpt
He looked gorgeous, as always, and I struggled to remember to breathe for a minute.  He works out like a mad man, and his body is to die for.  After giving me a kiss and a hug, Spence escorted me into his living room.  Taking a spot on his couch, I smiled when he took the seat at the other end.
“What’s up angel?  What do you need?”
I’d already decided not to beat around the bush, so I dove right in.  “Don't flip out. I’m here because I need to kiss you again, and I want you to give me my first orgasm. It's time.”
I paused when he gasped, and I could see that he was going to argue with me.  “Shush Spence.  Listen to me before you say no.”
He nodded tersely, so at least I knew he was listening.
“I'm a virgin, and we both know I'm saving it for you."
The look on his face was a mixture of shock, discomfort and arousal.  "Jesus, Delilah, shoot straight much? That's… I mean… I don't know what the fuck to even say."
"You can cut the crap and admit that you've known all along that I was waiting for you.  I don't mind waiting, not that I'm going to sit on my ass forever, but before I start taking care of my needs myself, I want you to get me there.  I want all my firsts to happen with you."
"Oh, fuck.  I don't even…"
Holding up my hand, I told him to hush.  "You can run from everyone else Spencer Cross, but you'll never be able to run from me.  I know you want this and you've wanted it for a long time. You’ve been waiting for me to come to you again.  Well, here I am. Someday, you'll have all of me.  Until you're ready to take that step, I'm asking you to give me this."
I saw the exact moment that he accepted what I’d said as being true, and I knew he was going to do it. His eyes were like a firestorm when he looked at me.  "If this is what you really want angel, then yes. You’re right.  I want to give it to you.  Tell me how you want me to do this."
Standing, I took his hand in mine as I started walking toward his bedroom.  I walked fast, letting go of his hands when we got in so that I could throw myself on his bed.  After enjoying a little bounce, I propped myself on my elbow and stared at him as he stood over the bed.
"You can start by kissing me.  How it goes from there is up to you."

Missing Hart excerpt
Turning on my heel I ran for the door, desperate to be away from him.  I swung it open at the same moment he reached a hand out and slammed it.  Pivoting,  I glared up at him.  “What the hell are you doing?  You can’t let go of the past and I’m done being your fucking punching bag.  What do you want?”
Pushing me roughly against the door he wrapped his fingers in my hair and pulled me against him.
“You!  Goddammit, I fucking want you.”
We met each other halfway, mouths smashing against each other in a kiss so intense that it was painful. My body went up in flames, the blood in my veins flowing hot for him. Our hands collided as we started ripping at each other’s clothes.  He bunched my skirt up to my waist and tore my panties off as I struggled to get his jeans open.  Finally I succeeded, reaching in and pulling his massively swollen erection out of his jeans and positioning it right at my center, marveling out how wet I was as I drenched his swollen head with my arousal.
With one hard thrust, he was in so deep that it hurt.  After not being penetrated for four years, he filled me to capacity and then some.  I screamed out in ecstasy and clawed at his shirt as his hips pumped into me at warp speed.  My back was banging against the door with every punishing thrust and I didn’t care.  I felt him in every part of my body as he pounded in and out, our mouths smashed together as we kissed like two maniacs.  We were a mess of teeth and tongue, the pain turning immediately into pleasure.



AUTHOR BIO
Ella Fox  writes like a woman possessed whenever she gets the chance!  She is the author of The Hart Family Series, The Renegade Saints Series and The Catch Series.

When she’s not writing, Ella indulges the gypsy in her blood and travels the country.  Ella loves reading, movies, music, buying make-up, reading Tmz, Twitter and pedicures… not necessarily in that order. She has a wild sense of humor and loves to laugh.  Her favorite thing in the world is hanging out with her family and watching comedy movies.

Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Email | Website |

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The Forsaken Love of a Lord by Kristin Vayden

The Forsaken Love of a Lord RDB

Title: The Forsaken Love of a Lord 

Author: Kristin Vayden 

Genre: Regency 

Publisher: Blue Tulip Publishing 

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synopsisOlivia has one goal upon returning to London: Find Lord Langley and seduce him. It was no secret that her stepsister was a miserable excuse for a human being and the secrets shrouding her demise only added confirmation that even in death---she wasn't worthy of the handsome Lord. According to rumors, Lord Langley is after revenge, but she's after something far more dangerous. His heart. One masquerade aligns their paths in ways neither of them could have imagined. Will he succumb to the fair beauty? Or forever allow his heart to be entrenched by the beastly claws of her dead sister?

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excerpt
Edward Ashley, the Viscount Langley swirled his brandy and stared into the glowing fire that was burning low in his darkened study. He knew this day would come, he felt it in his gut even as he had said the words four—though it felt more like forty—years earlier to his deceased wife’s father. Stepfather actually, if one was being particular. And Edward was one to be particular, which was why he still called himself ten kinds of fool for falling for such a treacherous woman. How had he deluded himself to thinking he loved Marybelle? That she loved him? Ha! That was truly the rub. Marybelle; love someone else other than herself? Impossible. Yet hadn’t he thought that love made the impossible, possible? Yes. He had. Back when he was young, naive and foolish. But no more. No, he had learned his lesson and paid for another person’s sins, over and over. Everything he had loved about Marybelle had been a lie—an elaborate game. One she had won till the night it had all come back to seek it’s bloody vengeance. That night more than one kind of poetic justice was served. It was too bad it was far to late to offer any redemption to his jaded heart. Or perhaps it was a blessing. If one cannot love, then one cannot hurt. Rather they are the lifeless, breathing shell he knew he had become. But the pain was less, the self-loathing, diminished in the balm of time…but he’d never heal. He didn’t want to. Notwithstanding, the Pierce family was back in London, Marybelle’s young sister in tow. The once young girl was now twenty. Surely they were hoping to give her a season. He scoffed at the idea. Marriage mart, love; all words that held a bitter taste in his mouth; like over steeped tea that had grown cold. Miserable. He detested cold tea, part of his particular nature. Well, he’d keep his part of the bargain as well. He’d not say a word to the ton about the truth of that night he found Marybelle. He’d not say what was lost. He’d not whisper a word of what was found. He’d turn and walk away the moment they walked into view, because everything they represented, he wanted to forget. And that was the very thing he was unable to ever do. “I take it you’ve heard the news, then?” Edward startled slightly at the sound of his friend’s voice. With an irritated glare, he turned to watch as Curtis Sheppard entered the room. “I take it you’ve forgotten how to knock again.” Edward shot back. “My, my we’re surly tonight. I’ll take your glower as a yes to my question.” His friend strode in with easy steps, a devil-may-care-grin on his face. Edward felt the uncharacteristic urge to beat it off of him. “You know…with all the venom coming from your expression one might get the impression that they weren’t welcome.” Curtis replied offhandedly as he helped himself to a crystal glass of brandy and sauntered over to a chair. “Then I’d have to change my original impression.” Edward replied, a slight grin bending his lips. “Of?” Curtis asked as he set the crystal glass of brandy down softly. “Your intelligence. I think you’re finally catching on.” “You wound me, old man. I know for a fact that I’m about the only one that bothers to stop by and at least attempt to cheer you up. Lord knows you’ve scared everyone else away.” “They were quicker to get the hint.” “They were cowards.” Curtis shot back, his eyebrows raised, daring him to refute his claim. Edward glanced down at the Abussion carpet, studying it but not seeing it. Damn the man, he had a point. But Curtis always did. He was one of the only friends that continued to endure Edward’s surly nature. Always cheerful, it was damn annoying as hell, but he broke up the monotony. He was one of the only people in the world who knew the truth, and Edward trusted him to keep it. That type of loyalty was rare as hen’s teeth. For that, Curtis had his loyalty as well, though he had, through the years, forgotten how to display any other emotion other than anger…or remorse. Edward’s gaze lifted as he watched Curtis approach him. “Yes?” Curtis’ eyes were narrowed slightly and he took a position just to the side of Edward and began to study the ground. “Just wondering what you found so damn interesting about the carpet that’s been in this study since you were in short pants.” Edward shoved his friend good-naturedly, a grin breaking through. “And here I had thought you’d lost the ability to smile. My hope in your black soul is restored.” Curtis shrugged and sipped his brandy. “I’d not place so much faith in me.” “I’ll be sure to under estimate.” Curtis shot back and returned to his chair. “So, back to my original reason for gracing you with my company—“ “I’d rather not talk about it.” Edward cut in, spearing his friend with a glare. “I’m sure you’d rather rot. However, that doesn’t change the fact that you’ll be seeing them at some point or another. What is your plan? After all, you’re Edward Ashley, Viscount Langley.” He raised his eyebrows. “You plan your life down to what you’ll dream about.” “Revenge.” “Bloody business. Best served cold, eh? You’re above that. I’ll not let you delude yourself.” “What—“ “I know enough. Leave it. It will only blacken your heart more, old friend. Besides, if you ruin the family, you’ll be going back on your word…which we both know will not happen. As much of a old stick you’ve become, you’re not dishonorable.” “Blast you, Curtis.” “Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment simply assuring myself that you see my brilliant point.” “You are vexing beyond words.” Edward muttered. “I’ve been told I’m many things beyond words…however most of those comments from the lady population.” He grinned. “Only you could find some way to make me actually want to discuss your sordid love life in efforts to escape the previous topic of conversation. How do you do it?” Edward asked in a wry tone. “I’m far more brilliant than you give me credit for. It’s the looks. Most people take one look at me and think ‘ah! All beauty, no brains.’ For honestly, it isn’t fair that I have a lions share of both.” Curtis sighed as if pained by it. “And humility, scads of that as well.” Edward shook his head. “I’m quite proud of that particular virtue, yes.” Curtis laughed. “Now, I’m going to attend the Bridgeton route tomorrow. Alaine will be there…” He let the name linger. Edward glanced heavenward, praying for deliverance to a God he wasn’t sure cared about him anymore. At one time he had been so sure. Now he was quite the opposite. “Alaine?” Edward repeated. “Yes, goddess of beauty herself.” “And voice of a minion.” “Do not say such things! Her voice is delightful…unique.” He added with a flourish of his hand. “Annoying, not unique…annoying. I swear I would rather listen to the screeching of fighting tom cats rather than hear her speak in that high pitched, nasal tone.” “You hide your true opinions so well.” Curtis replied dryly. Edward scowled. “At least I know I’ll have no competition from you, she’ll be mine for taking.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’d not dare stand in the way of true love.” Edward mocked. Curtis shook his head and chuckled. “ At least love for the moment.” “One day, you’ll find some lady that will turn your head in such a way you’ll not even be enticed by another…and I predict that very lady will not give you the time of day. God’s way of punishing you for your many sins.” Edward spoke clearly as he strode to the wide chair behind his desk. “Love advice? From you? My, it is a night of miracles.” Curtis replied with a mocking grin. “Insolent—“ “Don’t be irritated at my keen observation and ability to articulate it so clearly. Now, back to the Bridgeton route. You’ll attend, of course.” Curtis brushed some lint from his fine coat. “No.” “Yes.” “I’ll not repeat myself.” “Yes, you’ll attend! You gave your word two weeks ago. I knew you’d try to back out of our agreement since the arrival of Pierce family, but I shall not let you. I’ve been working on sweet Alaina for some time now, this is my chance.” He smacked his knee and stood. “You know I need you to attend if I’m to be allowed entrance.” “Bloody hell, why in the world do you wish to be part of the ton? Have you met any of them? Vipers, the lot of them.” “I’ve met you…” Curtis shot back. Edward rolled his eyes in exasperation. “You attended the Blackwood party without me—“ “But that was far less exclusive than the Bridgton event. You know this.” Curtis all but whined. Edward frowned. He hated that his friend had a point. While Curtis was wealthier than Croesus, his money was made in trade. Not inherited from an age-old title. And his father, being the independent type, had refused to try and purchase a title on the sly, so their family was, while wealthy, still part of the blue-collar variety. And being part of that class eliminated them from receiving invitations from the exclusive parties of the ton. Lucky blackguard. So unless Edward brought him along, he’d not be able to attend. And as much as he wished it weren’t true, he hadsaid he’d attend. “I loath you.” Edward ground out in defeat. “Its perfectly alright. I adore you enough for the both of us.” Curtis fanned himself like a lady. Edward snorted. Curtis grinned. “The lengths you push me to in order to lift your spirits. I’d think you be wise to thank the Good Lord for such a friend as I.” Curtis nodded and stood, draining his brandy. He sighed in satisfaction. “I’ll see you on the morrow. And…do try to smile. We wouldn’t want to frighten anyone.” He replied with an easy smile and left. Edward shook his head and stood to go and study the fire once more. But even for the warm heat from the fire’s soft glow, his heart will chilled knowing that tomorrow, he’d have to face the very people he never want to see again. Damn it all.

  forsaken meme #1   Author Bio
Kristin Vayden

Kristin’s inspiration for the romance she writes comes from her tall, dark and handsome husband with killer blue eyes. With five children to chase, she is never at a loss for someone to kiss, something to cook or some mess to clean but she loves every moment of it! She loves to make soap, sauerkraut, sourdough bread and gluten free muffins. Life is full of blessings and she praises God for the blessed and abundant life He’s given her.

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forsaken meme #3

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Grayson by Lisa Eugene Blog Tour



All she needed was a job…
The last thing twenty-four year old grad student Angie Roberts needs is to worry about her new boss’s father. After all, she’s never even seen him. He remains sequestered upstairs in a house that looks like it should be the main feature in an episode of Hoarders. She had no idea the house was such a dump when she took the job. But she’s concerned about the safety and health of the old man living under such horrid conditions.

What she got was a mystery…
Despite warnings not to venture upstairs, she wanders up to the second floor. What she sees is shocking. The man she finds is a gorgeous, sexy, middle-aged man-- and he's stepping out of the shower. But something is definitely not right. Why would this wealthy, handsome man live in a house in such disrepair while his nine-teen year old son resides in a lavish penthouse? Why does he hide away from society? Why does he come to her rescue and then run away?

What she discovered was heartbreaking…
Angie learns that forty-four year old Grayson Whitmore suffers from schizophrenia. Paranoid, he retreats into his own world.

What she ended up with was a treasure…
Angie is determined to get through to him. They form a friendship that blazes into an inconceivable love fired with erotic passion. Angie must now come to Grayson’s rescue because the wicked that has been perpetrated on him is unconscionable. First, though, she must gain the trust of a man whose mind does not allow for such a thing.




Early Sunday morning, I crawled out of bed in search of Grayson. I discovered him upstairs in the room with the books. They were piled all around him as he scratched at something on the floor with an old shovel. The room was saturated with an early morning chill, so thick I could feel it seeping through my skin. I hugged my torso, scrubbing my palms up and down my arms. I approached him hesitantly and asked what he was doing. My heart was in my throat because I never knew what to expect with Grayson. He stopped and leaned against the handle, his cloudy gaze finding my face. He was fully dressed. He must have gotten dressed again after we’d made love earlier. 

“Digging,” he acknowledged casually. “Digging a trap.”

I swallowed hard, emotion stacking like bricks in my chest. I shook my head, my mind grasping for purchase, trying to understand. “A trap for what, Grayson?”

“Danger. I have to be prepared. I have to protect us.”

I reached out a hand, trying to keep it steady. “You’re safe, Grayson.”

His gaze shifted to my proffered hand, but he didn’t move. He didn’t believe me. Fear and skepticism drew a roadmap of worry on his face. His jaw squared and he tightened his lips into a brittle line. I watched his body uncurl as he grabbed the shovel and silently started scraping at the floor again. That’s when I saw it. There was a large, jagged crater in the dusty wood that must have been covered up by the scattered books. It was directly over the small cracks I’d seen in the ceiling downstairs, the network of spider veins I’d noticed soon after starting here. I wondered how long he’d been working at this trap. I could already see exposed beams and fluffy insulation. If he kept this up, eventually he’d put a hole right through the wood floor.

“Go back to bed, Angie.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying with you, Grayson,” I said sternly, plopping myself down on the floor next to him. 

He stopped again and stared at me, his blue eyes almost cobalt in the gray dawn. His hair was a loose mane framing his face, giving him an unruly look. “You’ll be tired. You haven’t gotten much sleep.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, hurting, thinking of the reason I’d been up most of the night. We’d held each other, made exquisite love, bathed in a temporary utopia where I could pretend he was okay. 
But Grayson wasn’t okay, and as I spent more time with him, I realized the extent of his fractured thoughts. My Grayson was funny and brilliant. My Grayson was tender and passionate. My Grayson could melt my heart with the tiniest smile. But this man, too, was my Grayson, a man who was sometimes out of touch with reality, who lived in the distorted world concocted by his brain. It was a world of doubt, fear, and distrust.


JODIE'S REVIEW 


I was so excited to dive into this book.... simply because it was a little something different form the norm.... and the writing in this story will suck you in as you take challenging yet emotional journey right alone with Angie and Grayson.... I laughed, I cried and I adored them both.... their banter and chemistry just felt right, it left me feeling all warm inside.... I couldn't put the book down....
This book is a must read.... and I personally highly recommend it... it's a sweet, sexy, challenging, emotional story which tackles a very sensitive illness wonderfully.... Lisa this book is simply awesome... hitting all the right notes and spots.... can't wait for more from you in the future......



Lisa Eugene began writing as a way to mentally escape from the hectic medical world where she has been a practicing nurse for over twenty years. After publishing her first novel, STRICTLY BUSINESS, she quickly learned that readers couldn't get enough of the world she created and now she lives out her wildest fantasies by writing steamy romantic suspense for her fan-favorite Washington Memorial Hospital series.

When she's not plotting her next dangerous, fast-paced, sexy adventure, you can find her juggling a full time job, playing soccer mom, or curled up reading a good romance.