Month: August 2013

Promo Post and Giveaway: The Innocent by Kailin Gow

Title: The Innocent (The Protégé #2)

Author: Kailin Gow

Genre: Contemporary Romance/Erotica 18+
Publication Date: August 25, 2013
Event organized by: Literati Author Services

What started out as revenge has turned into passion. Serena Singleton, the innocent music grad student must now deal with a past that is consuming her future. She deals with it in the only way she knows how by falling heads first into the web of power and deception. Has she cast Sebastian Sorensen, her handsome and brilliant professor aside for the powerful and controlling billionaire Price Turnsby or has she found a way to keep them both? Sebastian Sorensen wants Serena more than ever, and he’s willing to fight for it, even against a powerful foe like Price. But no matter how much he fights, is Serena lost to Price’s charms and sexy ways more than she appears? Follow book two of the sexy Protégé Series where nothing is as it seems. 

The Men in The Protégé Series
By Kailin Gow
Twisted is how I probably would describe everything in The Protégé where the plot and the people are not what they appear to be.  This is a highly erotic book that is sensually stimulating but contains a plot that explores the psyche of love…and obsession. 
Where is the line between love and obsession? Who is the Master and Who is the Protégé?
While The Protégé is mainly from Serena’s point-of-view, the men in The Protégé have an incredible journey just like Serena. Their relationship with her will change and meander with her. And they will be a strong force in the way she change.
Sebastian Sorensen
The Protégé introduces the sexy, smart, and sensitive Sebastian Sorensen, the talented and successful Hollywood music composer who teach graduate-level classes at college. He believes in his students, and he also takes them under his wings.  One particular student, Serena Singleton, becomes more than his protégé, and what started as an arrangement becomes a life-changing experience for both of them.
Sebastian Sorensen, whose life seem perfect, will soon have his entire world turned upside down. Serena Singleton is not whom she appears to be, and now he can’t get enough of her.
Price Turnsby
The young handsome and incredibly ruthless self-made billionaire Price Turnsby has a secret life. He has grown up on the fringe of the glittering world the Sorensens are in the center of, and have watched everything he’d ever wanted, go to Sebastian Sorensen. 
Until Serena Singleton.  He must have her. At. Any. Cost.

A Texan at heart, she currently lives in California and Nevada, but spent part of her young adult and new adult years in England. Kailin Gow is a full-time author, a mother of an active little girl, and the founder of the social site, the Saving You Saving Me Project. She has worked with other women such as singer Caitlin Crosby and actress Kristin Kreuk (Beauty and the Beast, Smallville on the CW and ABC Television)in helping women and girls develop self-esteem. Kailin Gow has over 100 fiction books published with a handful of non-fiction books and is busy working on her next novel. She’d love to hear from her readers and invite them to contact her at kailingowbooks (at)aol (dot)com or friend her on Facebook, where she is a Facebook junkie.

For up to the minute information on new releases, contests, appearances, and news, sign up for her newsletter and her adult blog,

2 Winners: Signed paperback of Book 1 ~ The Protégé 

(USA Residents Only) 

$25 Amazon Gift 


Join us as we celebrate the release of
Beg Me (The Power Play Series)
Prizes and giveaways
Misha Elliott is an upcoming author from the south. Her first book Beg Me to be released September 2, 2013. When she isn’t writing she is reading and talking books with her friends She enjoys trips to the beach and cooking with her husband and muse. Look for her on Facebook at or follow on twitter at @cephoenixrising.

Fast 5 Questions

1. Can you describe your write style in one sentence?

Telling a story the best way I know how.

2. What are your top 5 books

With Me In Seattle Series by Kristen Proby
Stanislaski Series by Nora Roberts
Chocolate Lovers Series by Tara Sivec
Slammed Series by Colleen Hoover
Big Sky Series by Kristen Proby (to be released…yeah I’m obsessed)

3. If you were not writing what would you be doing?

True, no let me change my answer All of the above. I suffer from ADD so I have so many things going on in my head all the time. So writing, I would go crazy complaining about being 40, and having all these ideas in my head. No seriously, doing something with all the things I’ve written and jotted down over the years is my 40th present to myself. Plus it gives me an outlet for all the random thoughts, and people that live in my head.

4. If you had to give up all but one of the following what would you keep. Facebook, Twitter, your phone or your laptop?

I would have to pick my phone. It has everything on it. I wouldn’t want to give up hearing my kid’s voices.

5. Lastly, if you had to recommend one author other than yourself who would it be and why?

That’s easy…Kristen Proby. I have always used reading as a means to travel to different places and meet different people. Kristen weaves such amazing love stories that you feel like you are part of what is going on. When you read one of her books it’s like visiting an old friend. Safe With Me is out September 24th and her new Big Sky series coming out January 2014, we will get to see more of her genius mind at work. I cannot wait!

Promo Post: Temporary Bliss by Bj Harvey (Chapters 1 and 2)


(Bliss # 1, New Erotic Romance Series) 
Author: BJ Harvey 
Book Release date: August 29th 

Makenna Lewis cringes at any mention of the word commitment. She doesn’t want or need a relationship, but she does like sex (who doesn’t).

That explains Noah, Sean, and Zander, her three ‘friends with benefits’.

They know the score, they know they’re not the only one, and each of them provide her with a different physical need that she craves and enjoys.

Until a late night encounter with the delicious Daniel Winters turns her preconceived notion of no-commitment completely on its head.

Soon she finds herself feeling things she vowed never to feel again, and when Daniel pushes for more than she’s willing to give, she falters.

What do you do when something that you’ve known to be so wrong in the past feels so damn right?

If you’re Mac, you run and hide.

But is Daniel the type of man who takes no for an answer?

Chapter 1 – “Stupid Boy” 

I’m sitting on the bed in our dingy one bedroom apartment, having survived another day of living in Dalton, Ohio, without a job, without school, and effectively without a life. I’m waiting for my boyfriend Beau to get home from work. He works as a mechanic at the local garage down the street and usually finishes around 6 p.m. I know he’ll be home soon, even if it is only to check that I’m here waiting for him. He’s always had a slight possessive streak; it used to make me feel wanted and needed, but it seems to have kicked up a notch in the past six months.

Beau and I met in high school in our senior year. He was a late transfer student who started with only a few months left before graduation. He pursued me fervently, and despite my parents being concerned about their somewhat sheltered daughter going out with the neighborhood’s new resident bad boy, we fell in love, and we fell in love hard.

He was known for his trademark black leather jacket and dark blue denim jeans, both of which were his staple wardrobe. He’d occasionally mix it up with a wife beater in the summer, but whenever we were out he’d wear that jacket and a shirt underneath. I don’t remember a day that he ever wore shorts, and the only time I’d see his legs would be in bed. His black hair was worn a bit too long, but he always managed to make it look good. His eyes were a deep aqua blue that could strip you bare with one heated look. Yes, he was THAT guy.

He promised me the world and beyond. We’d park up by the lake and talk of the future, of our lives together and all of the things we could achieve. It was one of those high school romances that you read about. Me being the naïve, somewhat innocent and impressionable eighteen year old girl that I was back then, believed that he could give me the world.

We’d been together for a year when he lost his job in Chicago and I started noticing a change in him. Gone was his ever present smile when we were together; more often than not he would be withdrawn and seemed as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Then, he got a job offer from his Uncle in Dalton, Ohio. He needed a new mechanic and wanted to help Beau out. Beau begged me to go with him; said he loved me and couldn’t bear to live without me.

My parents and my best friend, Kate, were dead against it. They had noticed the change in Beau. They’d never been happy with our relationship, so they weren’t shy at expressing their concerns about moving across a whole other state to live with my “bad boy” boyfriend, and were vehemently against me giving up nursing school to do so.

In the end, Beau used the ace up his sleeve, something I didn’t see coming until it was too late.

He blackmailed me into moving with him.

We were lying in bed one night, having just made love, and I was stuck in the post-coital haze that had my mind thinking of fluffy bunnies and rainbows. He rolled over and brushed the hair out of my face. “I can’t leave you behind, so I’ve decided you’re coming with me, Mac. It’s you and me against the world. I can’t survive without you, baby.”

And just like that, it was decided.

The thing with emotional blackmail is that it is much easier to see what’s happening when you are outside of the situation. When you are at the center of it, you can’t see the wood for the trees.

Despite my deep seated reservations and the increasingly disturbing behavior that Beau was exhibiting towards me, I went with him. I believed a change in scenery would do him good.

About a month after our arrival in Ohio, his possessive streak went into overdrive. He had made a new group of friends from the garage who were all about partying, drinking, smoking weed and having sex. Since Beau had me and was already getting the sex, he dove head first into the drinking and drugs side of that equation. Often staying out for days at a time, or skipping work because he was too hung over.

It has gotten so bad now that I’m starting to think that my sweet, loving boyfriend from high school was all an act. Whenever we are in public, he is all over me, claiming me as his, but behind the closed door of our apartment he can be distant and aloof. When he’s drunk, he berates me and puts me down constantly. He complains that I’m a burden on him and how he works his ass off to support us and I should be more thankful.

So here I am, jobless with no school to keep me occupied, and the only person I’m close to here is Beau. He seems to relish that idea; the idea that I need him and can’t get by without him. Every day he comes home from work and grills me on where I’ve been, who I’ve seen, and what I’ve done that day. I used to take it as a sign of his love for me and the naïve girl that I was still held out hope that I would get my old Beau back.

Things are so bad now that I’ve had to put a screen lock on my cell phone. He’s checking through my messages to see who I’ve been talking to, questioning who has been texting me, and calling me during the day while he’s at work to make sure I’m home. He’s also made it clear that because he’s the one who is working and paying for us to live here; that everything I have is because of him and I should be grateful.

Some nights, when he actually does come home, he’ll berate me. He’ll get right in my face, threatening to throw me out and never see me again; saying that I couldn’t survive without him, and how I shouldn’t even try to say no to him.

I’ve started thinking about ways to escape my life, and to be honest, how to escape from under Beau’s thumb. I don’t want to live here anymore; this is not the life I envisioned for myself when I left high school.

I was born and raised in Chicago. That is where my heart lies, but when you’re young and in love, you’re willing to go anywhere to be with them. That was my idealistic philosophy in the beginning anyway. Before Beau started to change; started to become a hollow shell of the man I first met in high school.

I’m struggling to keep up appearances with Beau now, and I’m finding it near impossible to hide my growing distaste for his possessive streak, his ability to tear me apart with hateful words, and his all-night benders filled with alcohol, weed, and God knows what else.

My problem is that I’m trapped. No friends, no money of my own, no hope of ever escaping. Beau has said a number of times that he’ll never give me up; that I’m his girl. I know he’ll never leave me, either. It will take something major for him to let me go.

As of 4.30 p.m., this afternoon, that something major became the worst news of my life.

As I sat in the free clinic bathroom stalls, watching the cardboard stick slowly show one pink line then another, my plans as I knew them were flushed down the toilet, just like the left over pee in the test cup.

I was in a daze as the doctor explained the need for prenatal care and vitamins I had to take. Congratulating me, when all I wanted to do was breakdown and cry. We’d always taken precautions, me more so than Beau, so I’ve been on the contraceptive injection since leaving Chicago. The last thing I need is to get pregnant, stuck in my soul destroying life with Beau, and living away from my best friend and parents.

Now life has decided that I need one more challenge.

I drove home from the clinic in a daze, a myriad of possibilities running through my head. The doctor, sensing that I was none too happy with this unexpected news, gave me brochures on my different options. Termination or adoption. Then there is option C; staying in my dysfunctional relationship with my possessive, emotionally abusive boyfriend and raising a baby with him. Those are my options.


That is why I’m sitting here on the couch, waiting for the bomb to drop. I can even remember the exact night of conception. It was the night of my twentieth birthday. We’d been out to our local bar, drinking shots of tequila and beer, and dancing to the jukebox in the corner. Beau said that it was my treat since it was my birthday. He’d even invited a couple of his new ‘friends’ to join us. We’d caught a cab home and stumbled in the door. Beau got that tell-tale look in his eye which signaled he was up to no good. Soon, I was bent over the side of the couch, ass in the air, with Beau pounding into me from behind. I was too drunk to fight it, or wonder whether he was using protection or not.

I was too far gone.

A bit like I am now. I’m too far gone to think about this rationally or carefully. I know there are other options, but with Beau Gregory in my life it is not worth even considering.

Beau arrives home late, a few hours after he would have finished work. I can tell that he’s already been drinking by the stench of stale beer that surrounds him as he kisses me long and hard to say hello. He’s only that affectionate when he’s buzzed.

All night I’ve been talking myself into telling him about the baby. I walk over to the couch and sit down.

“Beau, I’ve got something to tell you,” I say, being careful to keep my tone as steady and emotionless as possible.

“What is it, baby?” he asks through half-opened eyes as he lies on the couch across my lap.

“I’m pregnant.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the time it took for my words to sink in, but as soon as they did, I could see the change in his face. He sits up suddenly, giving me a fright.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he bellows, jumping off the couch and pacing the room.

“I’m pregnant, about eight weeks,” I say, standing to my feet in front of him, unable to look him in the eye. Why do I feel like this is my fault?

“For fuck’s sake, Mac. I don’t want any bastard kid, not now, and probably not ever. How could you be so stupid?”

Maybe it was the hormones racing through me, or maybe it was the final straw that broke the camel’s back, but suddenly I don’t care what happens or what, if anything, he’s capable of doing to me. I’ve officially hit rock bottom; there’s nowhere left to go other than six feet under, or to fight and get up and out of this mess.

“You’re the one who let this happen,” I say, walking towards him. “You got drunk and didn’t use a fucking rubber!” I poke his chest with my finger, my voice getting louder with every word I spit out at him. “I didn’t realize my contraception had run out early, so if you’re going to blame anyone, blame yourself, Beau Gregory!”

I don’t have time to protect myself from the back handed slap that suddenly lands on my face, knocking me over onto the couch. I instinctually curl up into the fetal position to protect myself, and my stomach, from any further blows.

“Stupid bitch!” I hear him yell behind me as the front door slams. A few moments later I hear his Chevy truck roar to life, the tires squealing in the dirty parking lot as he takes off.

I’d like to say this is the first time he’s hit me, but it’s not. It first happened about a month after we first arrived in Dalton; that was the first sign that I’d made a huge mistake coming here with him.

We were at the bowling alley, and I had gone to get us some drinks. Beau saw me talking to a stranger who was waiting in line behind me, and that was all it took to set him off.

Later that night when we’d gotten home, and with a few too many beers under his belt, he laid into me; asking who the guy was, why was I talking to him, and asking whether I was fucking him behind his back. When I didn’t give him the ‘right answer’, his anger got the better of him and he slapped me across the face. He instantly sobered and spent the rest of the night, and the next week, apologizing profusely to me.

But the damage had already been done.

He promised it would never happen again; that he was just drunk and saw red when he saw me talking to another guy. Things started going downhill after that. Looking back, I should have gotten out then.

After lying on the bed for a few minutes, waiting to be sure he isn’t coming back, I get up and stumble to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I’m shocked at the reflection I see staring back at me. My once smooth, silky, dark brown hair is a tangled mess, my mascara, which was so carefully applied this morning, is now smudged and streaked down my tear stained face, and my cheek is red and puffy from where Beau’s hand struck me.

I see this now broken version of myself in the mirror, and the realization of the situation hits me like a freight train. I know I’m worth more than this. I can’t bring a baby into this world with an abusive father figure. I can’t have this baby. It’s not the time, and this definitely isn’t the place. I need to decide what I’m going to do. As much as it pains me, I wish this baby would disappear; go away and come back another day, at a better time, in a better situation with a better man.

Having climbed into the shower and tidied myself up, I put on some pajamas and crawl into bed. I’ve dead bolted the door because I don’t expect Beau to come home tonight, and if I’m being honest, the thought of sleeping in the same bed as him right now makes my skin crawl.

The last time he hit me, he disappeared for two days, coming back with his tail between his legs and begging me for forgiveness. The difference between that last time and now is that I’m not going to take his shit anymore. I need to come up with a plan, and I need to come up with one fast. I need to reclaim myself, my identity, my freaking backbone that I used to be known for.

It’ll have to blindside him. I can’t let him see it coming, or else I won’t be able to pull it off.

I need my best friend to help me. I need Kate now.

I fall asleep, content with my new resolution, my hand on my stomach, praying to God that he can find a way to help me.


I wake up in agony, folded over as pain rips through me. I look at the clock radio beside the bed and see it’s barely 5 a.m. It wasn’t daylight that woke me up; it was the stabbing sensation in my stomach and an aching sore back. As another wave of pain sweeps through me, I feel a wet sensation between my legs.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no.

This can’t be happening.

I cup myself between my legs as I jump out of bed and race to the bathroom, pulling my pants down. I see blood everywhere. I know what this is; I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’ve seen enough women come through during my hospital observation shifts with similar symptoms. This is not light spotting which can be considered normal in early pregnancy. This is a miscarriage. My baby is gone.

I turn the shower on and discard my soiled pants, throwing my top off as I hop into the cold shower, not waiting for it to warm up. I look down and see the red tinged water wash down the plug hole. I’m hit with a wave of regret, of loss, then suddenly overwhelming guilt. Deep down, it’s like I wanted this to happen; somehow I willed it to become reality. I slide down the wall of the shower and cradle my arms around my legs as I start to cry, sitting there for what seems like an eternity. I cry for the baby that I lost, for how trapped I am in this life, for the man that Beau has become, and finally, for everything that should have been but wasn’t. I stay there until the water runs cold, and I’m a shivering mess on the shower floor. Most of the blood has washed away now. All I feel is empty and free.

And guilty that I’m relieved that God chose this path for me.

I get out of the shower and get dressed, I grab my phone and call my best friend, knowing that if I’m going to do it, now is the only chance I’m going to get to escape this life and leave Beau.

“Kate, it’s Mac. I need a ticket home, today,” I spit out, my voice still shaky from spending the last hour crying.

“About freaking time, babe. Pack your stuff, go to the airport, and I’ll see you soon.”


“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Mac. I’m so glad you’re coming home. Everything is going to be okay.”

I grab whatever I can and stuff it into the two suitcases I have in the closet. I check that I’ve got only what I need, then carry the bags to the front door. I take my key off my key ring and place it on the kitchen counter. I take one last look around the empty room that has been my home for the past six months. Scratch that, I can’t even say it’s been a home. A home is full of love, and warmth, and for the past five months it’s been full of lies, deceit and if I’m going to be honest, fear.

“Goodbye, Beau Gregory,” I whisper as I click the lock and pull the door closed behind me.

Walking away from this life, I make a vow to myself; never again will my life be dictated by a man, and never again will I let love lead me astray.

But as I’ll soon find out not four years later, vows are made to be broken.

Chapter 2 – “The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face” 

Four Years Later

I’m on my way home after finishing a shift at the hospital. I’m just getting comfortable and texting Kate, when I drop my phone. Of course, it had to slide down the train away from me. Thankfully, being 8 p.m., the cab isn’t too full. Just as I’m about to get up and search the floor in a desperate last attempt to regain my life, hey, my phone is my life, don’t judge, I see him.

As luck would have it, my phone hit a strange man’s black loafer clad foot, and when I look up, I see said man making his way towards me. This man is sex on legs delicious. I totally clocked him when he got on the train at the stop after me. I’m amazed that I’m even coherent enough to notice anyone, given that I’m at the end of an eight hour day shift where I was rushed off my feet. I’m dog tired, but my mind is restless, wired, and you guessed it, horny.

Noah has been on a training course for the week, so there has been no chance of any on-call room hook ups, Sean has been out of town for business for the past few days, and Zander has had back to back bookings all week. It’s just been me, my trusty rabbit who, as luck would have it, has run out of juice, or option number three, this delectable man who is now walking towards me.

Ding, Ding, Ding! I pick door number three.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

He’s wearing a granite colored suit, the jacket hanging over his arm which is carrying a black leather briefcase. His white dress shirt has the sleeves rolled up, and he’s obviously finished work for the day because his top two buttons are undone, giving a slight glimpse of a tanned and toned chest that you just want to lick. I’m in businessman fantasy heaven, and he is being delivered to me on a plate, or in this case, a rattly, somewhat dirty, Chicago train.

But beggars can’t be choosers.

He’s totally caught me staring at him, his pearly white smile growing on his gorgeous face as he gets closer. I give him a slightly embarrassed, yet cute smile back, knowing that I’ve been caught checking him out. He holds his hand out to me when he reaches my seat, and being the socially awkward idiot that I am, I put my hand out to shake his, feeling absolutely mortified when I realize that he was only trying to hand my phone back.

“Sorry, is this your phone? It slid down the floor from this direction, and you’re one of the only people on the train without a phone or an e-reader in your hand, so I’m taking a lucky guess,” he says with a sly grin, thankfully not laughing at my social ineptitude.

“Yeah, that’ll be mine. Sorry to make you come all the way down here,” I reply, an uncontrollable blush creeping up my cheeks.

“Hey, it’s no problem. I don’t mind being given an excuse to talk to a beautiful stranger, on the L, at night, alone…”

His words are calculated. He somehow has managed to compliment me at the same time as chastising me for traveling alone on the L at night. Now that is talent! I feel a chill run up my spine at the sheer presence of this man.

“Makenna Lewis, but everyone calls me Mac,” I say, this time actually holding my hand out to shake his.

He looks down at my outstretched hand and drags piercing caramel colored eyes down my scrub clad body, his jaw twitching as he returns his gaze back to my face.

“Daniel Winters,” he replies, taking my hand in his and shaking it once while very deliberately dragging his hand slowly from mine, running the length of my fingers as he pulls away. I bite my lip as warm tingles travel from my fingers and up my arms, then shoot right down to my girly bits.

Holy hell, he’s got game, and it’s a game I want to play!

This man leaves Zander in his wake, and Zander is a professional stripper who gets paid to flirt.

“Where are you headed tonight? Have you just finished work, or just starting?” he asks, reaching up to hold on to the cabin’s overhead rail while he looks down at me with a raised eyebrow. That move brings my attention to his tailored shirt tightening over his toned biceps, and then I see it. It’s like my eyes are homing beacons looking for the slightest hint of skin. A small part of his shirt has come loose at his waist and has ridden up, giving me a glimpse of a tight set of abs and the smallest smattering of hair leading a trail south below his waistband. Lord knows I’m a sucker for tight abs and a happy trail.

C’mon, Mac, get it together, you’re drooling, and he’s waiting for an answer.

“Ah work, yeah, I just finished my shift at Northwestern,” I mutter, shaking my head to get rid of thoughts of him shirtless, and in my bed.

“Ah, a doctor then?” he asks with a smile.

“I’m a nurse in the ICU,” I answer back, the now stupid grin on my face getting wider as we sit there, smiling at each other.

“And how about you? Let me guess…a lawyer? No, wait, maybe an accountant? Nope, not that either. My last answer is undertaker.” I tilt my head and give him a returning ‘What’cha got for me now’ look.

He laughs and I literally stop breathing.

All of Daniel’s physical attributes are already measuring mighty high on the Makenna scale of hotness, but that laugh…the low baritone timbre that can stop wars, solve world hunger, and cure women of their need for underwear all at the same time…it is the work of the devil. I swear to God, all he’d have to do is lie there and laugh all day, and I swear I could sit on his chest and get off.

“I’m a stockbroker,” he finally tells me, leaning in and putting his spare arm on the back of my seat. “And I guess none of my sexy nurse jokes will win me any favors with you either, right?” I notice a slight upwards curl of his lips, and realize that he’s not only sexy and has a laugh that could make a nun horny, but he’s funny too.


“Probably not, but you never know your luck in the big city,” I muse.

He nods in agreement. “Duly noted.”

“So, you like to play with money then.” I can’t believe I’m being so blatant with this man. He smirks, and wouldn’t you know it, out come the dimples. Freaking adorable, cute as all hell divots on either side of his cheeks, dimples!

They’re going to be my downfall.

“I like playing with other people’s money,” he murmurs. His eyes have gone dark now.

“Sounds like fun. What else do you like to do?” Holy shit, Mac! Why don’t you just hump his leg already? Damn, I must need some sleep, or some rabbit relief, or something. I look down and blush again. I may talk a good game, but my blush always gives my self-conscious side away.

“Lots of things.” He pauses for a moment, long enough for me to look back up into those gorgeous eyes of his. My breath hitches when I see him looking back at me like I’m water and he’s dying of thirst. “Candlelit dinners, long walks…sex on the beach…”

He smiles as he says that last thing, especially when my eyes go wide.

Confidence simply exudes from him; he’s sure of himself, but not in an overly cocky way. But lord knows that I really want to know what he could do to me and vice versa.

“How about we start with my bed?” I say with a sexy smile and a wink.

And that is how I met Daniel Winters.

I’m 31 years old and live in New Zealand, the most beautiful country in the world.

I love reading, and started writing my first novel, Lost in Distraction in December 2012. Before that I’d written business and website articles professionally but never fiction. I love the indie community, authors, bloggers and readers alike and have met so many awesome people that I now call dear friends.

I’m a huge music lover as well. I REALLY love music. If there isn’t music playing, something is wrong. And it’s a wide range of music too, I might surprise you with my eclectic tastes.

I’m also a wife, mother of two gorgeous girls and currently working for myself as well as studying full time to become an accountant of all things. I also have a Bachelor of Communications.

My author inspirations are: Michelle Leighton, Barbara Elsborg and Kristen Ashley.

Blog Tour: A Graceful Mess by Nacole Stayton (Guest Post and Giveaways)

Title: A Graceful Mess 

Author: Nacole Stayton 
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Erotica 
Publication Date: August 27, 2013 
Photographer: Toski
Cover Designed By: Perfect Pear Creative 
Event organized by: Literati Author Services
Hiding behind the anguish from my past, my coyness seeps off of me like an aroma. I have felt like a stranger in my own skin, trying to claw my way out for far too long, allowing very few people to see past my façade…until my eyes met with his. I felt a sudden rush of energy all the way to my core. It jolted me in ways I never thought possible.
Never in a million years would I have expected to be in the mess I am today. It all leads back to the night Parker Porter turned my world upside down. The night his hazel eyes undressed me, peeling away the layers of the woman I tried so hard to be. He awoke desires that burned deep within me and changed me in one quick glance, leaving me vulnerable and exposed, picking up the shattered pieces of my carefully constructed life…a life I should not be living…a life I was not born into, but placed into by the state of Maine.
Parker opened a door that I am far from closing until I have answers and am able to face the life I was destined to live. I just have to decide if his love is worth the mess.
“They say be careful of the quiet ones.” –Grace
Warning: This book is intended for readers 18+ due to explicit language and sexual encounters. 

“Ten things in my purse”

Well since I am packed and ready for Vegas, I only have a little purse packed! Let’s see what’s in it.

a. Clinique chubby stick—strawberry

b. Toothbrush and toothpaste. Braces as an adult suck!

c. My wristlet

d. Four dollar bills and two quarters

e. My debt card

f. Chapstick aka two tubes of baby lips

g. Tampons <- Mother nature can suck it! : )

h. A small compact mirror

i. Car keys

j. Tic-Tacs

Christian “Nacole” Stayton is twenty-something years young and
currently resides in the Bluegrass state. She spends her days working at a local hospital in the billing department and nights writing vigorously on her current novel. She has a passion for helping others and wears her University of Kentucky gear proudly. While her husband loves all things outdoors, Nacole enjoys the finer things in life like getting pedicures while reading on her Kindle Fire. She is passionate about her faith, family and The Bachelor. Her hair color changes with the seasons and she has a weakness for tattoos, iced coffee, and happy endings. 

Blog Tour: The Opportunist & Dirty Red by Tarryn Fisher (Reviews, Excerpt & Giveaways)

Olivia Kaspen has just discovered that her ex-boyfriend, Caleb Drake, has lost his memory. With an already lousy reputation for taking advantage of situations, Olivia must decide how far she is willing to go to get Caleb back. Wrestling to keep her true identity and their sordid past under wraps, Olivia’s greatest obstacle is Caleb’s wicked, new girlfriend; Leah Smith. It is a race to the finish as these two vipers engage in a vicious tug of war to possess a man who no longer remembers them. But, soon enough Olivia must face the consequences of her lies, and in the process discover that sometimes love falls short of redemption.

Read my review here: The Opportunist

This is your mind…Happy thoughts! This is your mind after a Tarryn Fisher book…#^$(#*^&#^#&*@????? Any questions?

Dear Opportunist,

You thought you could take him from me, but you lost. Now, that he’s mine I’ll do anything to keep him. Do you doubt me? I have everything that was supposed to be yours. In case you were wondering; he doesn’t ever think about you anymore. I won’t let him go….ever.

Dirty Red

Leah Smith finally has everything she has ever wanted. Except she doesn’t. Her marriage feels more like a loan than a lifelong commitment, and the image she has worked so hard to build is fraying before her eyes. With a new role and a past full of secrets, Leah must decide how far she is willing to go to keep what she has stolen.
Book two in the Love Me With Lies series by Tarryn Fisher doesn’t disappoint! Dirty Red gives us Leah’s story…

“I have done a number of things to keep this man. I have lied and cheated. I have been sexy and meek, fierce and vulnerable. I have been everything but myself.
He is mine right now, but I am never enough for him. I can feel it — see it in the way he looks at me. His eyes are always probing, searching for something. I don’t know what he’s looking for. I wish I did. I cannot compete against a baby — my baby.
I am who I am.
My name is Leah, and I will do anything to keep my husband.”

The dirty lies and secrets come out as this story unfolds into a rollercoaster ride well worth the price of admission. When I found out this was going to be a 3 POV series I was on the fence about it. Book two made me love book one even more! Leah is a mix of miserable and down right insane. Forcing a marriage with a child just to prove you have the upper hand, in my opinion, should gift her one back zipping white jacket!

“Caleb is a pretty nice guy.”…”Why would he marry a girl like you?”

I started to feel a little sad and I do mean a little sad for Leah. She was lost as a mother and unable to create a mother/child bond with her daughter. Then again when you have nothing to compare it to how can you blame a woman who is a product of her environment? If Leah is crazy her mother is queen of crazy! If she would have taken five minuets of thought from her evil plans she would have seen that MAYBE a baby was not the answer. She continued to amaze me with every word out of her mouth and as time went on she was NOT winning any mother of the year awards.

Hate and entitlement can destroy a person. Then the crazy takes over! Leah is such person. Her draw to Caleb is an addiction. Like any addiction, the means in which you obtain that high never matter and you don’t care who you hurt in the process.

“Hate is suck a prodigious feeling. It´s hot and oppressive like fire. It starts by burning through your God-given reason until there is nothing left of it but a mound of ash. It moves on to your humanity next, hot tongues flicking across the few remaining threads of innocence until they melt into each other and morph into something ugly. Then, in the rubble of what you were, hate plants a seed of bitterness. The seed grows to a vine chokes what it touches.”

At the heart of Leah pain is the love of a man. A man that she coveted and the thought that she could not have him just might kill her. Although Olivia is not with out blame in this story I still feel that Leah’s actions have far surpassed the crazy train.

“I thought you loved your husband.” She blows air through her nose.
The action reminds me of an agitated horse. Her eyes rove from my shoes and land in disgust on my face. “I love yours too.”

Olivia and Caleb have become pawns in Leah’s dirty fight. Upset rocks the last three words of this book proving that book three will be far from a KO. Leah came to this fight with her hair pulled up and earrings off. Now it will be up to Caleb to provide a TKO! I am keeping my fingers crossed!

“She’s not the enemy. She’s just a dirty fighter.”

Tarryn has created a series that keeps you thinking with twists, turns, and a unique approach to an already crazy story line. The Opportunist drew you in with a story line to rival any daytime soap while Dirty Red provides you the juicy drama to keep you tuned in! Thank you Tarryn! Love Me With Lies is a must read series for me!

I am a real life villain, truly. I drink sick amounts of Starbucks. Most of the time my hair smells like coffee. I was born in South Africa, and lived there for most of my childhood. I moved to Seattle just for the rain. Rome is my favorite place in the world so far, Paris comes in at a close second. I read and write more than I sleep. When I was eleven, I wrote an entire novel about runaway orphans, using only purple ink. I am addicted to Florence and the Machine and will travel to see concerts. I love scary movies and giraffes. I spend way too much time on Facebook. Meet you there?
“I’m not getting in the pool! It is freezing!” 
“It’s November in Florida, Olivia. It’s seventy degrees out. Besides, it’s a heated pool. Man up.” Caleb waded around in his boxers in the turquoise water of the campus swimming pool. I tried to avoid looking at his muscles. 
“You can’t manipulate me into the pool by making a sexist comment,” I said, leaning down to splash him in the face. He grabbed my wrist before I had time to withdraw. 
Our eyes locked. 
“Don’t,” I warned. For a second, I didn’t think he’d have the guts. Next thing I knew, I tumbled headfirst into the freezing water. 
I came up gasping for air, my hair wrapped unbecomingly around my face. Caleb peeled it away, laughing. 
“I can’t believe you did that!” I gasped, shoving him on the chest. It felt like I was pushing on hot rocks. 
“You look good wet,” he said. “It would probably be easier to swim if you took off some of your clothes.” 
Shooting him a searing look, I started a breaststroke toward the side of the pool. 
“Ahh, not one for fun I see.” His voice was light when he said it but there was a definite challenge in his tone. 
“Screw it,” I mumbled, stopping a foot away from the ladder. I was the type of girl that would ‘jump off of a bridge’ to spite my friends. I was wearing my good underwear anyway. I ducked under the water and shed my polyester skin like a snake. I resurfaced seconds later with just my skivvies on. 
Caleb unconsciously mouthed ‘wow.’ 
“To your fun,” I toasted him with my sopping wet clothes and then threw them at his head. He dodged and circled around to where I was treading water. 
“Nice lace,” he smirked, eyeing me without shame. 
“Can you not make it so obvious that you’re looking?” I felt violated. I submerged myself under the water until only my head was visible. 
“I thought our relationship was about honesty,” he smiled. 
“Pffffff,” I snickered, “our ‘relationship’ is based on dares and blackmail.” 
His eyes were twinkling. He had such expressive eyes. I wanted to crush that twinkle and kick him where it hurt. 
“Blackmail is such a harsh word,” he said, as he swam closer. 
“You threatened to tell the school newspaper that I was the reason you missed the shot, Drake.” 
He was way too close for comfort now. I began peddling backwards. There was a scar at the corner of his right eye that I had never noticed before. It was just a faint crescent moon, but somehow it made him look dangerous— in a sexy way. I shook my head. These thoughts were not mine… they were Cammie’s— damn her. 
“How did you get that scar?” I asked. 
I shuffled along the bottom of the pool on my tiptoes to get away from him. He absently reached a finger out to touch it. 
“I stole a pound note from my grandfather’s wallet and when he caught me, he decided to punish me with his walking stick.” 
I felt one of those, ‘this is why he’s messed up,’ moments coming on and I prepared myself to understand him. 
I felt myself color red. I punched him on the arm as hard as I could. 
“I fell off my bike when I was twelve,” he laughed, rubbing the spot where I hit him. “A very boring story.” 
“At least it’s the truth,” I said, exasperated. “Someone like you doesn’t need to lie to be interesting.” 
“Someone like me?” he asked. “You find me interesting, Libby?” 
“No, I don’t, and don’t call me Libby. You know, you’re really quite simple and boring,” I sniffed. 
He was looking away from me into the water. 
“Did you drop a piece of your jewelry?” 
“What?” His attention had shifted so suddenly, I felt offended. 
“There’s something down there at the bottom of the pool.” He was pointing to a spot between our feet. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see what he was staring at. 
“I’m not wearing any jewelry,” I said impatiently, “it’s probably just a penny or something.” 
I nudged it with my toe. It was bigger than a penny. Before he could say anything else, I ducked my head under the water to retrieve it. When my head broke the surface of the water, Caleb automatically scooted closer. 
“What is it?” he was staring at my clenched fist. 
“Let’s see,” I said theatrically, pulling my fingers slowly away from my palm. It was not jewelry. It was an old penny, flattened, and stamped with a message that entitled its bearer one free shot of affection, a kiss. Before I realized what I was doing, I dropped the souvenir into his palm. 
“You’re full of tricks tonight, aren’t you?” He was laughing… always laughing. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
Before I could retort with something clever, Caleb reached out and scooped me around my waist. Even in the cold water, his touch felt scorching hot. He pulled me toward him and our bodies were pressed together, belly-to-belly, chest-to-chest. I was so shocked, that at first I made no protest. I hadn’t been this spatially close to another human being since I was an infant. He grinned, his eyes turning smoky with what I perceived as lust. 
I gave up fighting and allowed my lips to be steered toward his. This is for Cammie, I told myself. There was no ‘nice and easy’ with this boy. He grazed his tongue along the inside of my bottom lip. He was gentle at first, trying to coax my stubborn lips into some form of cooperation. I responded with the only thing I knew: frigid prudery. Caleb, undaunted by my lack of enthusiasm, pulled away from me. His hands were wrapped around my waist, his fingers positioned right beneath my panty line. Our foreheads were touching and my breath was coming out in little gasps. It was embarrassing. 
“Kiss me back, Olivia.” His voice was commanding, and for a second, I felt a flare of rebellion like I did when he instructed me to put on my seat belt. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. I didn’t win that fight. I probably wouldn’t win this one either. I might not even want to win it. 
I could do it. Kissing was a no-brainer, like eating or walking. His lips came back a second time and I bent my head toward him, tilted like in the movies. I was ready this time, willing even. I jumped when we connected and his lips, which were pressed against mine, stretched into an amused smile. He laughed into my mouth. It was infuriating and incredibly sexy. I tried to pull away, but he pulled me back. The kiss. The kiss. The kiss. It was chocolate cake and fizzy passion and goose bumps. No one had ever kissed me like that before. 
Then, he did the strangest thing— he pulled away and held me at arm’s length. The spell was broken. 
“Olivia…” His voice was rough. 
I shook my head. I didn’t want to hear what he was going to say. 
“I have to go,” I said quickly. 
She looks the same. Raven hair hanging wildly to her waist. She looks almost gypsy-like in her teal linen pants and a cream sheath shirt that hangs casually off one defined shoulder. I eye her gold hoop earrings, which are big enough to fit my entire hand through. They make her look exotic and slightly dangerous. She has always made me feel plain. 
Her eyes rove over the handful of occupants in the diner, searching for a face she recognizes: an old man, a couple who share the same side of a booth, two servers folding silverware into napkins … and me. 
I see the shock overcome her features — the parting of her lips, the slight spreading of white around her irises. Suddenly, she stiffens. Her eyes chase to the four corners of the room, and I know she is looking for him. I shake my head to tell her he’s not here. I take a sip of my coffee and I wait. 
She moves with purpose toward my table. When she reaches where I am sitting, she doesn’t sit but stares at me expectantly. 
“An old client?” She says dryly. 
“Well, I am, aren’t I?” I motion for her to sit. I’d sent an anonymous message to her office, claiming I was an old client in desperate legal trouble. I’d asked her to meet me at a diner named Tiffany’s. I had no idea if she’d come or not, but it was better than showing up at her office. 
She slides cautiously into the seat across from me, never taking her eyes from my face. 
“Well, what the fuck do you want?” 
I flinch. Louboutins or not, she’s still the same crass piece of white trash she used to be. 
“I thought maybe you could look over this document for me.” I reach into my purse and pull out the papers I’d stolen from Caleb’s filing cabinet. Placing them on the table, I slide them toward her. 
“What is this?” she asks. She eyes me distastefully. How dare she look at me that way? She has singlehandedly ruined my life. I’d have everything if it weren’t for her devious, overreaching hands. 
I’d probably also be in prison. I push that thought away. Now is not the time for gratitude. Now is the time for answers. I poke the document in front of her. 
“Take a look. See for yourself.” 
Without moving her head, she looks at the papers then back to me. It’s a smooth, hard, impressive piece of intimidation. The art of her body language is something to be admired. 
“Why would I want to do that?” she says. 
She’s making me feel chilled. I get a flashback of being on the witness stand, and my heart rate spikes. I practice to see if I can do it too. 
“It’s Caleb’s,” I say, only moving my lips. 
I don’t know whether it’s the mention of his name or if my imitation of her body language is working, but she tenses. 
A server approaches our table. Olivia reaches for the papers. 
“Get her a coffee, two creamers.” I say, waving him away. He hurries off. Olivia, who is reading, briefly glances up at me. I spent almost every day with her for nine months. I know what she likes. 
I sip my coffee as she reads, watching her face. 
Her coffee arrives. Without looking up, she pulls the lids from the creamers and dumps them into her cup. 
She lifts the mug to her lips, but halfway there her hand freezes. Coffee spills onto the table as she slams the mug down. Abruptly, she stands up. 
“Where did you get that?” 
She is backing away from the table, shaking her head. “Why is my name on there?” 
I run my tongue across my teeth. “I was hoping you could tell me that?” 
She bolts for the door. I stand up, tossing a twenty on the table and go after her. 
I follow her into the parking lot and corner her by the newspaper stand. “You are not getting out of explaining why your name is on this deed along with my husband’s!” 
Her face is washed of color. She shakes her head. “I don’t know, Leah. He never — I don’t know.” 
She covers her face with her palms, and I hear her sob. That only makes me angrier. I take a threatening step toward her. 
“You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?” 
She pulls her hands away and glares at me. 
“No. Of course not! I love my husband.” She is clearly insulted that I would even accuse her of such a thing. 
“I love mine!” My voice cracks. “ — So, why does he love you?” 
She looks at me with true loathing. 
“He doesn’t,” she says simply. “He chose you.” It pains her to give me those words. I can see the emotion spilling from her skin. 
I hold up the deed and shake it. “He bought you a house. Why did he buy you a fucking house?” 
She snatches the deed from my fingers and points to a date. “Did you miss this little detail? Long before you, Leah.” She shoves it back at my chest. “But, you know that. So, why did you really trick me into coming here?” 
I swallow — a nervous reaction. She sees it and smiles cruelly. 
“I should have let them throw you in prison, you know that.” 
She turns away, walking toward her car door. Her statement infuriates me. I follow her, digging my fingernails into my palms, I breathe through my nose. 
“So you could have him?” I blurt. My blood pounds in my ears. I ask myself that question all the time. I say it again. “You should have lost the case so you could have him?” 
She freezes, looks at me over her shoulder. 
I didn’t expect the truth. It frightens me. I open my mouth — force the words out. “I thought you loved your husband.” 
She blows air through her nose. The action reminds me of an agitated horse. Her eyes rove from my shoes and land in disgust on my face. 
“I love yours too.” 

Promo Post and Giveaway: Unscrupulous by Avery Aster


by Avery Aster 
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance 
Tone: dirty, sarcastic, and witty 
Heat Level: scorching 
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave 
Publishing Date: August 14, 2013 
Series, #: 2 The Manhattanites 
The Manhattanites is an extended modern erotic romance series of full length juicy melodramas multilayered on love, friendship, and drama to the hilt. If you grew up reading Jackie Collins, Judith Krantz and Danielle Steel you will devour this series as each book may be read as a stand alone. Sex & The City fans who watch TV shows like Girls (HBO), Mistresses (ABC/BBC Drama), and The Bold & the Beautiful (CBS) love The Manhattanites series. Avery’s characters are over the top. They have raunchy sex, speak their minds and always get what they want. 
Unscrupulous (#2 The Manhattanites) 
Content Warning: due to graphic sex scenes, strong language, suggestive themes, mature humor, and just about everything your friends ever told you not to do–including getting vajazzled, this novel is for adults only. 
At thirty-three Warner Truman is one of the richest men on the planet, a spa mogul who buys and sells resorts at will. He holds powerful executive’s careers in his well-groomed hands. Nothing is beyond Warner’s reach…until he meets her. 
Stunning, tantalizing, and perverse, Taddy Brill captivates Warner’s carnal desire like no woman he’s ever met. A self-made millionaire, Taddy is tougher than steel, more brilliant than diamonds and, at twenty-seven, she’s never depended on a man for anything…until she meets him. 
The more Taddy plays with Warner’s affections, driving him to erotic heights, the more she is confronted by a dark past. But before she can love him, Taddy must meet her worst fears head-on or risk losing it all, including herself 
Undressed (#1 The Manhattanites) 
Milan’s notorious playboy, Massimo Tittoni, seems to have everything–Lamborghinis, exotic women, palaces throughout Europe and business success. Ramping up his fabric company to go global with a new apparel brand, he ruthlessly stops supplying fabrics to the American client who inspired the collection. But once they meet, what’s he willing to give to get her in his bed? 
Upper East Side designer Lex Easton will be damned if she’ll let an Italian stud muffin knock her down. So what if she named her favorite vibrator after him. With Fashion Week approaching, she’ll do whatever it takes to secure the fabrics she needs to become the next Diane von Furstenburg– even sleep with her rival. But when she arrives in Europe the paparazzi chronicles her every move and she finds herself in a situation never imagined. Lex’s Louboutins stilettos are dug in deep to win this war. All’s fair in love and fashion! 
Avery Aster’s super-glossy debut novel is loaded with passionate escapism, pitting American ambition against Italian tradition. Erotic romance fans who appreciate extended sex scenes, witty banter and glamour mustn’t miss Undressed. 
Inside Scoop: Though the hero and heroine remain monogamous, their Prada-wearing friends indulge in a ménage a trois and other fashionable sexual fun and games 
Special Announcement 
Undressed (The Manhattanites #1) is regularly priced at $8.75 and will have an amazing 65% off the retail price at $2.99 from August 14th, the same day that Unscrupulous (The Manhattanites #2) launches, until August 27th. 
AVERY ASTER pens erotic romance for Ellora’s Cave. As a resident of New York’s Upper East Side and a graduate from New York University, Avery gives readers an inside look at the city’s glitzy nightlife, socialite sexcapades and tall tales of the über-rich and ultra-famous. “I write about what I see in my metropolis that never sleeps–Manhattanites on the quest for a passionate thrill,” Avery says. “By and large, my characters are drop-dead gorgeous, ripped straight from the headlines and on the hunt for their next conquest.” 
UNDRESSED #1 (Lex & Massimo) launched The Manhattanites series, exploring people’s forbidden desires of lust and longing. UNSCRUPULOUS #2 (Taddy & Warner) is the highly anticipated prequel coming August 14, 2013. Also, stay tuned for the sequel with UNSAID #3 (Blake & Miguel) coming winter 2013. 
Unscrupulous Pre-Sale Tour
Enter in The Manhattanites Rafflecopter prize contest (must sign up for Avery’s newsletter and will only be notified about upcoming releases) and win: 
• First prize: a $50.00 American Express gift card. 
• Second prize: your name in Avery Aster’s upcoming novel; Unsaid (#3 The Manhattanites) scheduled to release fall/winter 
• Third prize: ebook of Unscrupulous & Undressed 
• Fourth prize: ebook of Unscrupulous 
• Fifth prize: ebook of Undressed 
The Manhattanites Tour
Enter in The Manhattanites Rafflecopter prize contest (must sign up for Avery’s newsletter and will only be notified about upcoming releases) and win: 
• First prize: a $200.00 American Express gift card. 
• Second prize: your name in Avery Aster’s upcoming novel; Unsaid (#3 The Manhattanites) scheduled to release fall/winter 
• Third prize: ebook of Unscrupulous & Undressed 
• Fourth prize: ebook of Unscrupulous 
• Fifth prize: ebook of Undressed 

Promo Post: Broken by Christa Cervone Revisit and Excerpt of her upcoming novel Going the Distance

Broken by Christa Cervone Tour Package 

Release Date: February 25, 2013 

Author: Christa Cervone 

Cover Models: 
 Alex Minsky and Britney Marie Flores 
According to Webster’s Dictionary the definition of the word Broken is violently separated into parts. SHATTERED.
Yup, that pretty much sums me up. How do I handle things? I find my answers at the bottom of a bottle of Tequila and sleep with random men. 
How did I get this way? Well, four years ago I made a decision that cost me the love of my life. I can’t undo what I did to drive Garrett out of my life. I haven’t seen or heard from him in four long years. But he still haunts me in my dreams or should I call them nightmares at this point? No matter how much booze I drink and how many men I sleep with, nothing fills the void. I feel like I am existing but I’m not really living.
I’m trying to get my life back on track. Well that was until. . . . Garrett walked back into my life. His reappearance threw me into another tailspin. 
How do I put the pieces of our broken hearts back together? All before he walks out of my life again… this time for good. Or am I simply destined to just be Broken? 
I was born and raised in Western Massachusetts and I’m a married mother of three who married her high school sweetheart, Frank. I don’t really have too many hobbies. I like to watch my kids play sports. I do photography on the side (weddings, families, babies etc). I’m Minion & Adam Levine obsessed. I enjoy listening to all different types of music, Maroon 5 & P!nk being some of my favorites. 
Achievements — I was on the Top 20 Erotica as well in being on the Movers and Shakers List on Amazon with “Broken.” 
I’m currently working on her second novel titled “Going the Distance” which will be released Fall 2013 as well as a third novel titled “Saved.”

What’s Next for Christa Cervone?

Going the Distance…. 
Expected Release Fall 2013

Jimmy came barging through the door. “Saint, you’re not going to fucking believe who is talking to Frankie right now?”


“Blaine Davis.”

I stared at Jimmy with a blank look on my face. “Who’s Blaine Davis?”

“Only the richest guy this side of the tracks.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “So, what’s the big fuckin’ deal?”

“It’s a big fucking deal because he’s heard about you and your fight with ‘The Gladiator.’ Apparently, he wants to sponsor you or some shit. I was trying to listen in, but Frankie caught me and sent me away.”

“I don’t need any sponsors. I’m good.”

“Do you realize what a sponsor could do for you?”

“Yeah, I do. I also realize I’d need to answer to that sponsor. I already have to answer to Frankie. I don’t need someone else breathing down my neck.”

“Well, if his money won’t sway you, you should see the cute little honey he has with him. She’s a Gingah.”

“A what?”

“A Gingah. You know she has red hair,” he said touching his hair.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” I laughed.

“I wonder if her carpet matches her drapes,” Jimmy laughed raising his eyebrows.

“Dude, seriously. . . Are you twelve?”

“You gotta come see her. She’s a fuckin’ dime.”

Jimmy had actually sparked my interest at this point. He wasn’t one to check out other girls. He only had eyes for Stephannie.

“I’ll be out in one minute. Let me finish getting my gloves on.”

“Don’t take too long. I’d hate for you to miss out on this piece of ass.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

I highly doubt the girl standing in my gym was going to be the hottest girl I’ve ever seen before. I’ve had my share of hot chicks.

Once the gloves were on, I did a once over in the mirror, then headed out into the gym. I saw Frankie talking to some young guy who was probably around my age. He was dressed in a well tailored suit and some pansy ass shoes. I laughed to myself. What a jerk-off walking around in those shoes.

“Ahhhh! Gabriel, there you are. Come over here, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Frankie said cordially.

I jogged over. “What’s up Frankie?”

“Gabriel, this is Blaine Davis.”

I held out my hand to shake his then realized I had my gloves on. “Sorry, I’d shake your hand but. . .” I said looking down at my hands.

Truth was I didn’t want or need this guy in my life. I’d gotten by just fine before him, and I’ll get along just fine after him.

“Saint, it’s really great to finally meet you. I’ve been following you for some time now,” Blaine said enthusiastically.

“Oh yeah?” I replied, unphased.

“I can’t wait to see you kick the shit out of Gladiator.”

“Gladiator is going to be a tough opponent. My guess is it’ll go to a decision.”

“No way man. You’re going to TKO him within the first few rounds. I have money on it.”

This dude was raking on my nerves. He didn’t even know what the fuck he was talking about. Frankie was right I needed to get myself prepared for this fight. Gladiator was a phenomenal boxer, and I had my work cut out for me.

“Well, it was really nice to meet you, but I gotta go start training,” I said walking toward the ring.

“I’d really like to sit down and talk about sponsoring you,” Blaine said.

“Talk to Frankie and set it up. He knows my schedule.”

I had no intentions of keeping that meeting. I’d have Frankie schedule it and then have him cancel it.

“Blaine, are you almost done?” I heard a sweet, soft voice say from the corner of the room.

There she was…. This beautiful, petite red head who must have stood only five feet five inches, and that was with her wearing stiletto high heels. She was dressed as formally as Blaine was. The dress she was wearing probably cost a small fortune; though, it hugged her in all the right places. I’m sure my entire wardrobe didn’t cost as much. With her pale blue eyes, she looked me up and down, giving me a little smirk.

“How rude of me,” Blaine said. “Saint this is my girlfriend, Salem Harris. Salem this is Saint, the fighter I’ve been telling you about.”

“Blaine, come here! I want to show you something,” Frank shouted interrupting our introductions.

Salem and I stood in silence.

“Salem? That’s an intriguing name.” I smiled trying to break the awkward silence.

“I was named after my Great Grandmother,” she replied, completely uninterested.

“Well, it’s a unique and beautiful name.”

I caught her looking me up and down again. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” I winked at her.

Her smirk quickly changed to a sneer. “In your dreams,” she quietly said, rolling her eyes, but loud enough for me to hear her.

“Burn! Shot down by the Gingah,” Jimmy laughed loudly as he walked by.

“I beg your pardon?” She snapped directing herself to Jimmy.

I could tell by the shocked look on Jimmy’s face he didn’t expect to see that reaction come out of her.

“I . . . Ummm. . . I’m sorry,” was all Jimmy could get out.

“Salem, he was just kidding,” Blaine said walking up behind her, putting his hand around her waist.

“He has no right to insult me like that,” she said raising her voice.

“You’re right he doesn’t. Jimmy, apologize to the lady,” I interjected trying to defuse the situation.

Frankie would kill Jimmy if he pissed off a potential sponsor. Frankie’s gym stayed open primarily through grants, donations and sponsorships.

Jimmy walked closer to Salem. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was just a joke.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jimmy. She’ll be just fine. Won’t you, Salem?” Blaine said consoling her.

Salem shook her head, yet she was still giving both me and Jimmy a dirty look.

“Come on. Let’s get into the ring before you say something else that’s stupid,” I laughed to Jimmy patting him on the back.

BLOG TOUR: Stripped by Jasinda Wilder (exclusive excerpt, book trailer, review and giveaway)

Release date August 16, 2013

So how did I get myself into this situation, you ask? Simple: desperation. When you’re faced with being homeless and hungry or taking off your clothes for money, the choice is easier than you’d imagine. That doesn’t make it easy, though. Oh no. I hate it, in fact. There’s nothing I’d like more than to quit and never go into another bar again, never hear the techno beat pulsing in my ears again, never feel the lecherous gazes of horny men again.

Then, one day, I meet a man. He’s in my club, front and center. He watches me do my routine, and his gaze is full of hunger. Not the kind of desire I’m used to though. It’s something different. Something hotter, deeper, and more possessive. I know who he is; of course I do. Everyone knows who Dawson Kellor is. He’s People Magazine’s Sexiest Man alive. He’s the hottest actor in Hollywood. He’s the man hand-picked for the role of Rhett Butler in the long-awaited remake of Gone With the Wind. 

He’s the kind of man who can have any woman in the entire world with a mere crook of his finger. So what’s he doing looking at me like he has to have me? And how do I resist him when he looks at me with those intoxicating, changeable, quicksilver eyes? 

I’m a virgin, and he’s an American icon of male sexuality. I’m a stripper, and he’s a man used to getting anything and everything he wants. And he wants me. I know I should say no, I know he’s the worst kind of player…but what my mind knows, my body and my heart may not.

And then things get complicated.

“No daughter of mine will engage in any such lewd and sinful behavior as dancing.”
These are the warning words of Grey Armunsen’s father who is the founder and executive pastor of Macon Contemporary Baptist Church. Grey is a straitlaced young lady who goes to another state for film school and that’s where her life basically spirals downhill. She has to make decisions so that she can fulfill her dreams, without the support of her father. As a reader, I was tapped into a very realistic world wherein a young woman has to confront life, dreams, and reality head-on. Life is hard. Dreams are sometimes even harder to reach. And reality can be the biggest barrier to reaching your dreams.
I loved Grey’s character. She’s strong, willful and has a lot of personality. When she meets our hero, Dawson, a guy who seems to have everything – fame, money, power – the tension between them is sizzling!! Dawson, oh Dawson…He is such a hot man! He is handsome, understanding, strong, and smart! He knows what he wants and goes for it.
These are just some of the quotes I loved:
“All the world is silent and still. The sun hasn’t moved in its arc across the sky. Motes of dust hang in the sunlight, frozen like beads of amber…”
“You make me feel alive, Grey. And…I love that feeling.”
Ms. Wilder’s writing is flawless, exceptional, and breathtaking. As a reader, you’re treated to a wonderful blend of chasm, angst, humor, and whew! burning hotttt love scenes! The love scenes though are not gratuitous; they are essential to establish the strong passionate connection between Grey and Dawson. The secondary characters are a very interesting mix – you get to see the Hollywood lifestyle, the glitter and the glamour and you also get to read about life in a simple town. Ms. Wilder creates a world where you can get lost into and I have a hard time finding my way back. She yields great commands of words, almost prose-like, and I am left in awe.
I also loved the cover – I think it’s great and appropriate for the story. I truly am a fan of this author. I will read anything she writes. ANYTHING. Stripped – this is really a great story of life, love, choices, family. 


Chapter 1 (Part 1) 
“No daughter of mine will engage in any such lewd and sinful behavior as dancing,” Daddy says to me, his blue eyes blazing. “It is gross and immodest and entirely sexual. I’ve seen the kind of dancing those…those harlots engage in at that so-called academy. You will not attend.” 

I screw my eyes shut and restrain the urge to scream and stomp my foot. I’m sixteen and a lady. Stomping my foot does not become a lady. At least, that’s what Mom tells me. “Daddy, please. Please. I won’t do anything like that. I’ll be modest, I promise. You can okay each dance, each outfit. Just…please. Please, please, let me dance.” I clasp my hands in front of me and dip at the knees, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes. 

He’s wavering. I can sense it in him. “Grey, I don’t approve of dancing. God does not approve of dancing.” 

Mom to the rescue: “Now, Erik, you know that’s not what the Scriptures say. You’re just being a cantankerous old dinosaur. David danced before the Lord. The Psalms mention dancing to honor the Lord in several passages.” She glides to Daddy’s side and presses up against his arm, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Our daughter knows right from wrong, and you know it. She just wants to bring glory to God by using the talents He’s given her.” 

“Please, Daddy. I won’t allow any choreography that’s lewd or sexual.” I can barely breathe from the burning weight of hope in my chest. 

He glances from me to Mom and back. I can see him chewing it over in his head. “I’ll allow it…for now. But at the first sign of anything sinful or ungodly, I’ll pull you out of there so fast you won’t even have time for your head to spin. You hear me, child?” 

I hug him, squeal with joy. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” 

“Don’t disappoint me, Grey. You are a pastor’s daughter. You have to set a fitting example for the entire community.” 

“I will, Daddy. I’ll be the best example. I promise, I promise.” I spin away from him and dance a few flowing steps away, then settle into an arabesque, which I hold for a moment. I turn back to him. “See? Nothing wrong with that, is there?” 

He just narrows his eyes at me. “I have to finish preparing Sunday’s sermon.” 

Daddy is the founder and executive pastor of Macon Contemporary Baptist Church, one of the largest churches in the entire state of Georgia. Granddaddy Amundsen was the hellfire and brimstone pastor of a tiny Reformed Baptist church in the backwoods of Georgia, so Daddy grew up a pastor’s kid, was groomed for the pulpit his whole life. Granddaddy was even more strict than Daddy, impossible as it seemed. He didn’t even approve of me wearing pants or shorts, even as a little kid, but Daddy let me get away with that as long as the shorts weren’t too short or the pants too tight. To Granddaddy, women stayed in the kitchen, wore dresses, and were seen and not heard. He was a bit of a fossil, Granddaddy. He never approved of the fact that Daddy taught the more modern and contemporary Baptist theology. 

I’ve been dancing in secret since I was fifteen, watching Internet videos, teaching myself, watching So You Think You Can Dance on my laptop and trying to imitate the choreography. Mom helped me out a bit this past year, taking me to dance classes on Saturday mornings, telling Daddy it was manicure-pedicure appointments. He approved of mani-pedis as little as he did everything else, but he had a hard time saying no to me and Mama, so he let us go. He didn’t need to know about the secret dance classes as long as Mom was driving me. Of course, Mom and I really do get mani-pedis after dance, but that’s beside the point. 

I grin at Daddy as I dance out of his study. 

Mom is waiting for me in the kitchen. “There you go, Grey. Now you can dance all you want and not worry about either of us getting in trouble.” 

I hug Mom and give her a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you, Mom. I know you didn’t like lying to Daddy—” 

She glares at me, silencing me with a finger over my lips. “I never lied. Not once. He asked if we were going to get our nails done, and that’s what we did. If he didn’t ask where else we went, that’s not lying. If he had ever asked me directly if I was taking you to dance classes, I would have told him. You know that.”

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jasinda Wilder is a Michigan native with a penchant for titillating tales about sexy men and strong women. When she’s not writing, she’s probably shopping, baking, or reading. 

​Some of her favorite authors include Nora Roberts, JR Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Liliana Hart and Bella Andre. 

She loves to travel and some of her favorite vacations spots are Las Vegas, New York City and Toledo, Ohio. 

You can often find Jasinda drinking sweet red wine with frozen berries and eating a cupcake. 

Jasinda is represented by Kristin Nelson of the Nelson Literary Agency.

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Promo Post & Giveaways: Taken by You by Carlie Sexton

How tragic it is when a caged spirit finally finds its freedom and — entranced in its ecstasy — is invited by that freedom into a cloaked dance with danger. 

In Book One of this three-part epic, Kate Simmons — young and
alluring, and finally out of her cage of grief — attracts more than attention. Intoxicated by her newfound independence, a blithe
Kate is on her way to finding out that around the corners of life, some life-changing eye-openers await. As the story continues in Book Two and she begins to churn a dangerously turbulent trail, it is Kate who now has to snap to, to react, to outrun, or become yet another tortured victim who vanishes down the path of wrong choice. 

Having already roiled the risky waters of jealousy, Kate moves in with Neil while Roger — an enamored oddity — visits his son in Germany. Upon his return and finding Kate gone, Roger’s predator mind becomes unhitched, and then unleashed, on the hunt of a lifetime. But whose life? 
Step by creeping step, even as Kate’s future closes in on her, she attends — obliviously — to her new life, working through the challenges of fresh relationships, losing family members both to death and to deceit, questioning the depth of love. 
Every path offers a choice. Every choice offers a consequence. And every consequence summons its due. As emotions swirl across fateful days and nights, some in Kate’s life will reach out to touch happiness in warm embraces, others to sever ties in bloody traces. 
The stains of passion are frequently mistaken. The question here is who will be taken? 
Carlie Sexton has had a passion for reading her entire life. She loves it so that she dedicated her life to educating children. As a teacher, she has had the profound pleasure of teaching children to read and explore their imaginations through a good book. Just recently she decided to write a story that had been on her mind. Now she has several that she wants to turn into additional books. Writing has become a passion that she dearly loves. 
Carlie lives with her handsome husband in Southern California. They enjoy the relaxed lifestyle that California provides. They have two beautiful dogs, but on children. 
You can connect with Carlie on Facebook via her author page at, email her at, or visit her blog at to see what is next on her horizon. lick here to enter text.

Fallen For You
Taken By You

BLOG TOUR: Sleepers, Awake by Eden Barber

Sleepers, Awake by Eden Barber

Overeducated and underemployed, Ivy League graduate Agnes Larch spends every day steeped in failure and sleeps every night without dreaming…that is, until the unexpected death of Ian Millbrook, the boy she’s silently loved her whole life. Grieving and forced to confront her long-buried feelings for Ian, Agnes undergoes an arduous physical and spiritual journey to unearth her past and untangle her future. She walks in two worlds, the waking and the dreaming, each world filled with secrets, mysteries, and maybe, if she believes enough, miracles.

“Logic will get you from A to Z;
imagination will get you everywhere.”
~Albert Einstein

What do you do when you fall in love? What do you do when you aren’t sure that love is real? You dream. That is what we do, that’s who we are. Those dreams become our hopes.. they become our desires. They become our reality? What if you could create you’re own reality If you let your mind go and checked your inhibitions at the door?  What path would your mind take you down?

This is an amazing story. A perfect blend of fantasy and dream. The writing style impeccable. The words chosen were perfect. You are taken on a journey. The characters completely relate-able. Who doesn’t want to be the princess of their own world?

This is a story of love and angst. A story of truth and fiction blended in an amazing way that will leave your heart touched. This story is one that you won’t shake. It’s a story of true love. It’s a story that your will find yourself wrapped up in.

Eden Barber is an amazing author and this could very well be a break out book for her. I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for her and us in regards to her I loved peeking into her imagination and hope she affords us the ability to do so in the future and take another road trip.
4 Stars