Coming Soon! THE COPPERSMITH FARMHOUSE Book Blast & Giveaway

coppersmith_banner_prereleaseHi there! I’m helping spread the word on a new contemporary romance coming out March 9th from Devney Perry. THE COPPERSMITH FARMHOUSE features a city-slicking gal meeting the hometown sheriff–as they tussle over possession of an old farmhouse.

Scroll down for an excerpt and enter to win one of THREE $100 Amazon GC, too!
coppersmith-coverAbout the book:
One old farmhouse brought them together. It could also tear them apart.
Gigi has just uprooted her whole world to start a new life. The unexpected gift of a farmhouse in small-town Montana is just what she and her daughter need to escape big-city loneliness. The last thing she needs is attitude from the town’s sheriff, the most perfectly attractive and ruggedly handsome man she’s ever laid eyes on—and a complete jerk.

Jess knows all about women like Gigi. Beautiful. Sexy. Scheming. She’s stolen his sanctuary, the farmhouse that should have been his. But along with a face full of freckles, she’s got a sharp wit and a backbone of steel—something he doesn’t discover until after making a complete fool of himself. If he can earn back her trust and win her heart, he might just find the home he’s always needed.

How about a little taste?

“Coffee’s getting cold, Georgia.” He leaned on the counter with his forearms.
Forearms that were tanned and sinuous. Forearms that I really wanted to touch, with veins I really wanted to trace as they snaked their way across the muscle.
Forearms I should not be thinking about.
I needed to focus. My mission? Get Jess away from my ER counter.
“Did you poison it, Sheriff?” I asked, grabbing my cup.
He chuckled but didn’t answer.
The sheriff probably wouldn’t poison me and more caffeine was a necessity, so I took a healthy pull.
Bliss.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
I had no desire to feel indebted to Jess but also didn’t want to be rude. I wasn’t a rude person, normally. Something about him brought it out in me.
“So why the coffee, Sheriff? And how did you know what I liked?” My curiosity was piqued.
He smirked and took a drink from his own cup. What he didn’t do was answer me.
“You do realize a smirk is not an answer.”
Still no response.
“Seriously, what’s going on?”
He sighed. For once, his beautiful eyes weren’t glaring at me. They were kind and gentle. He could melt me with those eyes.
Damn.
“I made some wrong assumptions about your relationship with Ben. Been an asshole this week. Sorry.”
Yep. Hell had frozen over. Why wasn’t it on the news?
In less than twenty-four hours, Jess had changed personalities. He’d been utterly mean to me last night, and now here he was being nice, buying me coffee and making apologies.
I appreciated his admission but I wasn’t going to let down my guard. One apology wasn’t enough to erase the way he’d treated me. To make me think he was as wonderful as everyone professed him to be.
“Would you mind expanding a bit on these assumptions? I’m interested to know what type of relationship you thought I had with an eighty-one-year-old man.”
His answer was a wide smile filled with perfect, straight white teeth.
Eff.
During our previous and rather unpleasant encounters, I hadn’t seen Jess smile. So far, I’d only gotten scowls, glares and smirks.
But damn if his smile wasn’t perfect.
Shivers erupted across my skin. My cheeks flushed and there was a throbbing sensation between my thighs. My core temperature skyrocketed a couple hundred degrees.
I was hot for the town sheriff. I was hot for a man who I absolutely did not like one bit.

Interested? You can pre-order THE COPPERSMITH FARMHOUSE on Amazon (US, UK and Can) Barnes & Noble, iBooks, and Kobo.

****GIVEAWAY****

Click on this Rafflecopter giveaway link for your chance to win one of THREE $100 Amazon gift cards.
Good luck and keep reading my friends!

devney-perry-pictureAbout the Author:
Devney lives in Montana with her husband and two children. After working in the technology industry for nearly a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to enjoy a slower pace at home with her kids. She loves reading and, after consuming hundreds of books, decided to share her own stories.

Catch up with Devney on her website, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

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Coming soon! THE DEEP END–Book Blast and Excerpt

facebookdeependHi there! I’m getting the word out on a new erotic romance coming soon from best-selling author Kristen Ashley. THE DEEP END, releasing March 7th, is the first book in her Honey series and looks to be hot and sweet.

deepend_highresAbout the book:
Enter a decadent sensual world where gorgeous alpha males are committed to fulfilling a woman’s every desire…
Olivier isn’t sure what he’s gotten himself into when he joins the Honey Club, only that a dark part of him hungers for the lifestyle offered by this exclusive club. Here, no boundary will be left untested…and one’s deepest fantasies will become an exquisite reality.

When Amélie invites Olivier to surrender, she gives the alpha submissive what he craves. Soon they both find themselves falling harder than they ever anticipated—but as their connection deepens, the truth about Olivier’s past could destroy everything…

Gripping and seductive, The Deep End is the first book in a sensational new series from bestselling author Kristen Ashley.

How about a little taste?

She turned back to him. “You seem to have a good deal of stamina.”

“Amelie…Mistress, I don’t think you’re getting’ that I seriously find you not hard on the eyes.”

She bent closer, as intended for this part of their session, some of her fair falling on his chest in another caress. She did this letting her amusement show, if not all of the emotion she felt at his compliment.

“I wonder, mon chou, if you think you can butter me up with compliments.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Though not sure why I’d bother since I didn’t give you one and you just made me shoot a huge-ass load the like that have never come from my cock.”

“And he gives another compliment,” she said through a smile.

“You earn it, I’ll say it, he replied, his lips twitching. “That is, if I’m physically capable of speech.”

She was still smiling when she reached out a hand and delicately traced circles around his nipple.

His eyes darkened.

Her good humor increased.

“You’re of course aware I should do something about you being so audaciously cheeky.”

Another darkness crossed his face. “What?”

“I shouldn’t allow you to be cheeky with me.”

“Cheeky?”

“Impudent,” she explained.

The look fled. “You mean, in uppity, hot-chick speak, a wise-ass.”

Amelie couldn’t help it, she laughed softly.

“She’s got a pretty laugh, too, to go with that pretty accent,” he murmured and she saw his eyes on her lips.

I could get lost in this one, she thought. Lost and never found.

Interested? You can pre-order THE DEEP END in advance of its March 7th release on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, GooglePlay, Kobo, IndieBound, and BAM.

kristen-ashley-headshotAbout the Author:
Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA and nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorize and she hadn’t taken her first breath!). Her mother said they took Kristen away, put her Mom back in her room, her mother looked out the window, and Gary was on fire (Dr. King had been assassinated four days before). Kristen’s Mom remembered thinking it was the end of the world. Quite the dramatic beginning.

Nothing’s changed.

Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana and has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus, she’s blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her family was (is) loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. They all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).

Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.

And as she keeps growing, it keeps getting better. Catch up with Kristen on her website, Facebook, twitter, sign up for her newsletter, Goodreads, Pinterest, Instagram.

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Book Birthday Giveaway for THE TRUTH ABOUT LENNON!

Hi there! I’m so excited to share a book birthday release and gift card giveaway for a new contemporary romance from KL Grayson. THE TRUTH ABOUT LENNON features a masquerading daughter of the Vice President, and the sweet Texan she falls for while laying low.

lennonAbout the book:
Lennon Barrick-St. James is making headlines as New York City’s hottest new socialite. Only she isn’t new at all. One well-intentioned night gone wrong has landed the daughter of the vice presidential candidate Christopher St. James on the front pages of every newspaper and magazine in the country.

Forced by her father to stay out of the limelight, Lennon flees to the quiet town of Haven, Texas, where she vows to lie low and avoid men. Well, except for the sexy biker she just ran off the road–she definitely won’t be avoiding him.

Noah Cunningham already has a girl in his life, and he sure as hell doesn’t need another. Especially the beautiful and sinfully sweet angel that just descended upon the quiet little town he calls home.

The only problem is that the more time he spends with Lennon, the more he wants to be with her. And that’s just not going to work for Noah. He’s already been burned once and he’s not so sure he’s ready to go down that road again.

Noah has spent the last five years putting his life back together after secrets and lies ripped it apart. So what will happen when he learns the Truth about Lennon.

Interested? You can find THE TRUTH ABOUT LENNON on Goodreads, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, and Kobo.

****GIVEAWAY****

Click on this Rafflecopter giveaway link for your chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card.
Good Luck and keep reading my friends!

About the Author:
K.L. Grayson resides in a small town outside of St. Louis, MO. She is entertained daily by her extraordinary husband, who will forever inspire every good quality she writes in a man. Her entire life rests in the palms of six dirty little hands, and when the day is over and those pint-sized cherubs have been washed and tucked into bed, you can find her typing away furiously on her computer. She has a love for alpha-males, brownies, reading, tattoos, sunglasses, and happy endings…and not particularly in that order.

Catch up with Ms. Grayson on Facebook and Twitter.
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Out Today! MACK DADDY

mack-daddy-availableHi there! Just sharing the release day info on a new contemporary romance from USA and NYT bestseller Penelope Ward. MACK DADDY is out right now! It’s a standalone contemporary romance featuring a teacher and the parent of a student she falls for…again.

pwmackdaddybookcover5x8_bw_high-fixedAbout the book:
From New York Times bestselling author, Penelope Ward, comes a sexy, STANDALONE second-chance romance.

They called him Mack Daddy. No, seriously, his name was Mack. Short for Mackenzie. Thus, the nickname. Perfect, right? So was he: perfect. The perfect physical male specimen. At the private school where I taught, Mack Morrison was the only man around in a sea of women. Everyone wanted a piece of the hot single father of the sweet little boy. I was riddled with jealousy, because they didn’t know that—to me—he was much more. They didn’t know about our past.

He’d chosen my school for his son on purpose, because Mack and I, we had unfinished business.

As my friend Lorelai so eloquently put it: “Unfinished business between two people who are clearly attracted to each other is like an eternal case of blue balls.” And I was suffering in pain from my case. I was still intensely attracted to Mack. I tried to resist him, immersing myself further into a relationship with another man just to protect my heart.

Not to mention, getting involved with a parent was strictly against school rules. But seeing Mack day in and day out was breaking me down.
And soon I might be breaking all the rules.

Told in alternating points of view, Mack Daddy is a full-length standalone novel.

How about a taste?

It was the evening of our monthly PTO meeting. On the agenda was to designate the volunteers for several fundraisers that would take place in the spring.

Setting up the refreshments and a coffee urn in the hallway outside of the classroom, I couldn’t wait to get this over with so that I could go home, get into my pajamas, and relax. It was always exhausting to have evening commitments when the workday ran so late to begin with.

A deep voice from behind startled me. “A keg would be much more fun, wouldn’t it?”

I turned around to find Mack standing there, holding a box of chocolate chip cookies from the supermarket.

“What are you doing here?”

He placed the cookies on the table. “This is the parent and teachers meeting, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…” I hesitated, not even knowing what to say.

He finished my sentence. “But I’m not supposed to be included in that group?” Mack snapped his finger. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought PTO stood for ‘pissing teacher off.’ My bad.”

“Well, if that were the case, you might be in the right place.”

“This is the right place for me tonight.”

“This meeting is for serious participants.”

“I’m serious about the teacher. Does that count?”

“No.”

“Actually, in all seriousness, I’d also like to help. It’s the least I can do after crashing your school year. I really would like to be as involved as I can in Jonah’s education. That’s the truth, okay? Getting to spend time with you is an added benefit.”

What could I say? He had just as much right to be here as anyone else.

“Just be aware that this isn’t the right place to be joking around or distracting the other attendees, for that matter.”

“I don’t plan on distracting anyone but you.”

“Yeah, well you have quite the fan base here. We have a very strict agenda to adhere to.”

He moved in closer and just stared me down for a bit. The contact caused my skin to prickle and my nipples to harden. “Don’t worry,” he said as he looked down, seeming to notice that my nipples were piercing through the fabric of my shirt. “Your points are well noted, Miss O’Hara.” He wriggled his brows. “I’ll see you inside.”

I hated that he knew he was having an effect on me. If my body had this kind of response now, what would have happened if he’d actually done more? Spontaneous impregnation? Some things just never change, and my reaction to this man was an example of that.

A long table sat in the middle of the spare classroom where we held the meeting. There wasn’t a single man in the room besides Mack. He was like the centerpiece.

I took my seat at the end of the table. “So, shall we get started?” Looking down at my list, I said, “First on the agenda is the book fair. We need to elect someone to be in charge of it and coordinate the volunteers.”

Mack raised his hand.

“Yes?” I asked.

“That sounds like it’s right down my alley. I’d like to volunteer to run the book fair.”

“What makes you want that task? It’s a lot of responsibility.”

He thought about it for a moment then said, “I write children’s books. I think I’d be a perfect fit.”

“That’s a good point,” one of the women said. “He might be the perfect fit.”

I’m sure you’re thinking he’d be the perfect fit, alright…in your vagina.

“Okay…but I hope you know that there is a tremendous amount of work that goes into organizing that particular event. It takes place over the course of an entire weekend. You have to place orders with the bookseller, do inventory, delegate tasks, and arrange for an onsite food vendor because many people just come for the food. Ultimately, the food is the bait.”

“I can bait people. I’m a master baiter.” He paused. “I mean…I can handle it. I’ll get a shitload of people to sign up.”

An attending nun gave him a dirty look for his use of foul language.

He cleared his throat, seeming to regret his choice of terminology. “I’ll get people to attend. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll put your name down as a possibility. We’ll take a vote at the end.”

“Thank you.”

Looking around the room, I asked, “Is there anyone else here who is interested in taking the reigns on the book fair?”

Not a single person budged.

One woman said, “No, but I’ll be happy to help Mack with whatever he needs.”

I’m sure you will.

Mack nodded then offered a smug smile. “Thank you.” He then took a bite of his cookie and winked at me.

Interested? You can find MACK DADDY on Goodreads, Amazon, iBooks, Nook, and Kobo.

About the Author:
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She’s a fifteen-time New York Times bestseller of twelve novels.

Having grown up in Boston with five older brothers, she spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 12-year-old girl with autism and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.

Connect with Penelope on her website, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, Goodreads and her Private Fan Group.

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Check Out This Excerpt for MACK DADDY!

mack-daddy-release-dateHi there! Just getting the word out on a new book coming out Feb 13th from USA and NTY bestseller Penelope Ward. MACK DADDY is a standalone contemporary romance featuring a teacher and the parent of a student she falls for…again.

pwmackdaddybookcover5x8_bw_high-fixedAbout the book:
From New York Times bestselling author, Penelope Ward, comes a sexy, STANDALONE second-chance romance.

They called him Mack Daddy. No, seriously, his name was Mack. Short for Mackenzie. Thus, the nickname. Perfect, right? So was he: perfect. The perfect physical male specimen. At the private school where I taught, Mack Morrison was the only man around in a sea of women. Everyone wanted a piece of the hot single father of the sweet little boy. I was riddled with jealousy, because they didn’t know that—to me—he was much more. They didn’t know about our past.

He’d chosen my school for his son on purpose, because Mack and I, we had unfinished business.

As my friend Lorelai so eloquently put it: “Unfinished business between two people who are clearly attracted to each other is like an eternal case of blue balls.” And I was suffering in pain from my case. I was still intensely attracted to Mack. I tried to resist him, immersing myself further into a relationship with another man just to protect my heart.

Not to mention, getting involved with a parent was strictly against school rules. But seeing Mack day in and day out was breaking me down.
And soon I might be breaking all the rules.

Told in alternating points of view, Mack Daddy is a full-length standalone novel.

How about a taste?

It was the evening of our monthly PTO meeting. On the agenda was to designate the volunteers for several fundraisers that would take place in the spring.

Setting up the refreshments and a coffee urn in the hallway outside of the classroom, I couldn’t wait to get this over with so that I could go home, get into my pajamas, and relax. It was always exhausting to have evening commitments when the workday ran so late to begin with.

A deep voice from behind startled me. “A keg would be much more fun, wouldn’t it?”

I turned around to find Mack standing there, holding a box of chocolate chip cookies from the supermarket.

“What are you doing here?”

He placed the cookies on the table. “This is the parent and teachers meeting, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…” I hesitated, not even knowing what to say.

He finished my sentence. “But I’m not supposed to be included in that group?” Mack snapped his finger. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought PTO stood for ‘pissing teacher off.’ My bad.”

“Well, if that were the case, you might be in the right place.”

“This is the right place for me tonight.”

“This meeting is for serious participants.”

“I’m serious about the teacher. Does that count?”

“No.”

“Actually, in all seriousness, I’d also like to help. It’s the least I can do after crashing your school year. I really would like to be as involved as I can in Jonah’s education. That’s the truth, okay? Getting to spend time with you is an added benefit.”

What could I say? He had just as much right to be here as anyone else.

“Just be aware that this isn’t the right place to be joking around or distracting the other attendees, for that matter.”

“I don’t plan on distracting anyone but you.”

“Yeah, well you have quite the fan base here. We have a very strict agenda to adhere to.”

He moved in closer and just stared me down for a bit. The contact caused my skin to prickle and my nipples to harden. “Don’t worry,” he said as he looked down, seeming to notice that my nipples were piercing through the fabric of my shirt. “Your points are well noted, Miss O’Hara.” He wriggled his brows. “I’ll see you inside.”

I hated that he knew he was having an effect on me. If my body had this kind of response now, what would have happened if he’d actually done more? Spontaneous impregnation? Some things just never change, and my reaction to this man was an example of that.

A long table sat in the middle of the spare classroom where we held the meeting. There wasn’t a single man in the room besides Mack. He was like the centerpiece.

I took my seat at the end of the table. “So, shall we get started?” Looking down at my list, I said, “First on the agenda is the book fair. We need to elect someone to be in charge of it and coordinate the volunteers.”

Mack raised his hand.

“Yes?” I asked.

“That sounds like it’s right down my alley. I’d like to volunteer to run the book fair.”

“What makes you want that task? It’s a lot of responsibility.”

He thought about it for a moment then said, “I write children’s books. I think I’d be a perfect fit.”

“That’s a good point,” one of the women said. “He might be the perfect fit.”

I’m sure you’re thinking he’d be the perfect fit, alright…in your vagina.

“Okay…but I hope you know that there is a tremendous amount of work that goes into organizing that particular event. It takes place over the course of an entire weekend. You have to place orders with the bookseller, do inventory, delegate tasks, and arrange for an onsite food vendor because many people just come for the food. Ultimately, the food is the bait.”

“I can bait people. I’m a master baiter.” He paused. “I mean…I can handle it. I’ll get a shitload of people to sign up.”

An attending nun gave him a dirty look for his use of foul language.

He cleared his throat, seeming to regret his choice of terminology. “I’ll get people to attend. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll put your name down as a possibility. We’ll take a vote at the end.”

“Thank you.”

Looking around the room, I asked, “Is there anyone else here who is interested in taking the reigns on the book fair?”

Not a single person budged.

One woman said, “No, but I’ll be happy to help Mack with whatever he needs.”

I’m sure you will.

Mack nodded then offered a smug smile. “Thank you.” He then took a bite of his cookie and winked at me.

Interested? You can check out MACK DADDY on Goodreads, and order it in advance of its February 13th release on iBooks, Nook, and Kobo. Or sign up to be alerted when it goes live!

About the Author:
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She’s a fifteen-time New York Times bestseller of twelve novels.

Having grown up in Boston with five older brothers, she spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 12-year-old girl with autism and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.

Connect with Penelope on her website, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, Goodreads and her Private Fan Group.

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Chapter Reveal for MASTERING HER SENSES!

mastering-her-senses-chapter-reveal-bannerHi there! Today I’m sharing a chapter reveal for a brand new BDSM erotic romance from Laura Kaye. MASTERING HER SENSES is the second novel in her new Blasphemy series, which got a great start with the erotic novella HARD TO SERVE and the first novel, BOUND TO SUBMIT. I’m so looking forward to reading this book!

mastering-her-senses-coverAbout the book:
From the ruins of an abandoned church comes Baltimore’s hottest and most exclusive BDSM club. Twelve Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy.

He wants to dominate her senses—and her heart…
Quinton Ross has always been a thrill-seeker—so it’s no surprise that he’s drawn to extremes in the bedroom and at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, where he creates sense-depriving scenarios that blow submissives’ minds. Now if he could just find one who needs the rush as much as him…

When an accident leaves Cassia Locke with a paralyzing fear of the dark, she’ll try anything to get help. Ready to fight, she knows just who to ask for help—the hard-bodied, funny-as-hell Dom she’d always crushed on—and once stood up.

Quinton is shocked and a little leery to see Cassia, but he can’t pass up the chance to dominate the alluring little sub this time. Introducing her to sensory deprivation becomes his new favorite obsession, and watching her fight fear is its own thrill. But when doubt threatens to send her running again, Quinton must find a way to master her senses—and her heart.

Decadent… Sensual… Forbidden…

12 Masters. 12 Desires. 12 Fantasies Come to Life.
Meet the Masters of Blasphemy…

A yummy taste!

Quinton Ross was in his happy place.

Standing behind the bar at Blasphemy, the club he co-owned with eleven of the coolest assholes he’d ever known, he surveyed the roomful of wonderfully kinky people wearing a whole lotta nothing. Totally his jam.

And the fact that he’d get to play with one of them later? Seriously, a man’s life didn’t get any better.

Well, having a submissive of his own…that could be better. Theoretically.

Except the one and only time he’d attempted that, the woman had screwed him over so royally he’d almost needed lube. Heh.

But, whatever. Quinton tried really frickin’ hard to let things roll off his shoulders. People had much worse shit in their lives than him. Most of the time, he considered himself lucky and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Besides, he never lacked for company or partners around the club, and no submissive ever left him anything but fully satisfied. He made damn sure of it.

“Hi, Master Quinton,” came a feminine voice from further down the counter.

He turned to find a blond-haired woman with a sleek, silver prosthetic arm leaning against the marble of the ornate bar. Kenna Sloane. And right behind her stood her big mountain of a Dom and one of Quinton’s best friends, Griffin Hudson. “Aren’t you looking lovely tonight, Kenna,” Quinton said with a smile as he made his way to where Griffin was sliding into a seat and pulling Kenna’s slim hips between his legs. “And am I wrong or is this some snazzy new hardware?” He nodded at her arm. She’d lost everything below her right elbow while serving with the Marines in Afghanistan. If she and Griffin hadn’t been fuckin’ fated, Kenna might’ve been Quinton’s kind of woman.

Adventurous. Brave. Willing to push life to the extremes.

But they were fated, something the diamond on her finger and the platinum collar with its unique interwoven knot sitting at the hollow of her throat both indicated. Loud and clear.

Kenna smiled, so much more comfortable here at the club—and seemingly in her own skin—than she’d been when she and Griffin had first reconnected a few months back. “I have a couple different sockets. And a girl has to coordinate,” she said, holding it up to the almost sheer sparkling silver halter top she wore.

Chuckling, Quinton nodded and clasped hands with Kenna’s Dom. “Master Griffin, how the hell are ya?” Their wrists bore matching leather cuffs with embroidered Gothic M’s. Every Blasphemy Master—the experienced Dominants who owned the club and took turns running and monitoring it—wore one like it.

“Never better, my friend. Never better.” The skin crinkled around Griffin’s dark eyes as he spoke, his smile coming a million times easier than it ever had before. Quinton guessed that was what happened when you were not only able to correct one of the biggest mistakes of your life, but find a submissive who was also your soul mate in the process.

Lucky fucker.

“I know that’s true,” Quinton said, winking at Kenna. She ducked her chin but was smiling bright enough to light up the whole room. And that was saying something given the size of Blasphemy. Located in the renovated remains of an old abandoned church, the massive rectangular nave formed the central part of the club. Filled with lots of seating and play areas, it had a soaring ceiling, massive stained-glass windows all around, and a performance and demonstration stage where the altar had once been. Themed rooms and other private spaces stretched off from the main floor. In addition to the very private and exclusive Blasphemy, the public front of their business—Club Diablo, a three-story dance club in a renovated warehouse—stood across a courtyard.

And Quinton provided hands-on management over it all.

He’d been with the clubs from the beginning, and had used his savings and the money he’d made selling a small but successful bar of his own to purchase his ownership stake in Blasphemy, a deal that got even sweeter when his partners had offered him the job of managing the bars and all the food service at both clubs. Food, drink, and sex all tantalized the senses and therefore were equally high up on the list of things he loved, and always had been. Given his prior experience, he pretty much had full control of the operation. Just like he liked.

Griffin placed an order for him and Kenna, then asked, “You have a scene set up tonight?”

Quinton got busy making their drinks and shook his head. “No,” he said with a grin. “But I’m looking forward to the thrill of the hunt.”

Griffin chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

The quip on Quinton’s tongue died when a flashing red light under the bar’s edge caught his eye. An emergency in one of the rooms. He glanced at the tag over the light to determine which one, then slammed the drinks down in front of his friends harder than he’d intended. “Shit, G, sorry. Emergency in the dark room. Get someone to cover?” he said, moving without waiting for an answer. He knew Griffin would have his back.

Quinton moved as fast as he could without calling undue attention. Their members knew that the Masters and a team of other Doms who worked as monitors responded to all sorts of problems around the club, some as mundane as an equipment malfunction and others more delicate situations involving disputes between players in a scene. Hell, a few months ago, Quinton had responded when Kenna broke down during a bondage scene, and Griffin had called for help extricating her from his intricate ropework. Sex at the extremes was bound to run into a few issues, which was why consent and safety were hallmarks of BDSM and Blasphemy itself. But none of that meant any of them wished to distract players from their pleasures with worry or curiosity, either.

Off the main floor, Quinton picked up his pace as he moved down the long hallway off of which most of the themed play rooms were located. The dark room was at the far end. Master Wolf came up beside him. “Hey, man,” he said.

Quinton gave him a nod. “Didn’t know you were on tonight, Wolf. Good to see you.”

A little taller than Quinton, the guy had dark blond hair, the brightest green eyes you’d ever seen, and a chiseled Scandinavian face that turned heads all over the club. “Running the security control room. Relieving Isaac because the baby’s sick,” he said, referring to Isaac Marten, their head of security operations, who had a two-month-old son.

“Damn. Sorry to hear that,” Quinton said as they closed in on their destination. The dark room was actually a series of three interconnected rooms. In the center was a pitch-black bedroom, accessed only through two changing/waiting rooms on either side of it—one of which let out into this hallway, and the other of which let out into a different hallway so that the players couldn’t run into each other before or after the anonymous scene. The dark room was very popular, and given Quinton’s interest in sensory deprivation, it was one he’d used many times.

He heard someone in distress before they even got inside.

Quinton and Wolf burst through the door to find one of the monitors trying to calm a woman curled on the floor, gasping like she couldn’t breathe. She wore a slinky bronze dress that bared most of her legs.

“What happened?” Quinton asked, grabbing a blanket from a shelf and going to his knees beside her. He tucked the soft fleece around her.

“I don’t know,” the monitor said. I sounded the alarm but she told me not to call an ambulance when I asked.

“She just freaked out. I swear. Nothing hardly happened between us,” a shirtless man said from the doorway to the dark bedroom.

Quinton hadn’t even noticed him there, but Wolf was already questioning him. He nodded to the monitor, a Dom in his forties, and then peered up at Master Wolf. “You all clear out. Debrief him and get his information.”

“You got it, Q,” Wolf said, motioning the other men out into the hall. “Call if you need help.”

As they left, Quinton brushed the woman’s shoulder-length hair back off her splotchy face. “We need to get your breathing under control or I have to call an ambulance.”

“No…no…I…it’s…” Clenching her eyes, she shook her head and growled as if in frustration.

Damnit, he needed to do something for her. The part of him that needed to care and soothe decided, and he scooped her off the floor and carried her to the couch. Everywhere they touched, her pulse hammered against her skin. If this was a panic attack, it was one of the worst he’d ever seen.

He sat with her in his lap, the blanket still wrapped around her, and cradled her so that they were facing each other. “Breathe with me, little one. Do you hear me? Look at me and breathe with me.” Striking hazel eyes with flecks of gold cut to his. Almost familiar…

Focusing, he exaggerated one breath, than another, and another, until she struggled to match her rhythm to his.

Griffin appeared in the doorway, questions clear on his face. Quinton spared him the smallest of glances and gave a single shake of his head. Griffin nodded and closed the door. Quinton had this. The others would be there in a heartbeat if he was wrong, but he didn’t think he was.

Because the woman’s body was calming. Her breathing was evening out. Her pulse was slowing. Her muscles were losing their tension.

“That’s it. That’s good. Just watch me and breathe with me. Don’t stop. We’ll kick this thing, don’t you worry.” He stroked his hand over her hair, wanting to soothe her. The color was so rich it almost matched the bronze of her dress. Her hair was beautiful and soft. As was the rest of her, all golden skin and pretty curves. Her weight felt good in his arms. She turned her face into his hand, just the littlest bit, and he stroked her hair again. A jagged scar ran along her forehead and into her hairline over one eye.

The scar triggered the oddest thought: That wasn’t there before.

His gaze cut back to those eyes. Hazel with the gold. And he suddenly knew he’d seen them before. Years ago. Right here at Blasphemy. A name clicked into place.

“Cassia?” he asked. Cassia. As in Cassia Locke, a submissive he’d flirted with quite a few times and was once supposed to play with…but she’d stood him up the night of their scene.

“Y-yes, Sir,” she whispered. “H-hi, Mas-ter Q-quinton.”

So she recognized him, too. Did she remember that night? He shook off the thought. Their history wasn’t something to deal with just then.

“Hi yourself, kid.” He gently scratched his fingertips against her scalp and concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths that she mimicked. Studying her, Quinton noticed another scar on her right shoulder. Her hair was also much longer than the almost boyish style she used to wear. Finally, Cassia went limp in his lap, and her ease unleashed a satisfaction in his blood. “Feeling better?”

She gave a long sigh, the sound exhausted and defeated. “As better as I can feel after utterly humiliating myself. Sir.”

He shook his head. “No such thing happened. Not as far as I’m concerned.”

Her gaze skittered away.

“Did I tell you to stop looking at me?”

Cassia’s eyes snapped back to meet his. “No, Sir.”

Her obedience unleashed even more of that satisfaction. The attraction of BDSM, to him, was as much about the psychology of it as the physicality of the acts. Her reaction—that obedience—represented an ingrained instinct, a need to serve, a desire to surrender. And that fucking heated his blood. He arched a brow and nodded. “Good girl.”

She shifted in his lap, but kept her eyes on his. The movement reminded his body that he’d been planning to find a partner, but he locked that shit down tight. First, because she’d been through something tonight he didn’t entirely understand. And second, because given that she’d stood him up and never bothered to follow up to explain, he wasn’t sure what to make of her anyway. And trust was kind of a thing, for him. Well, for most Doms, really. Which meant he needed to know.

“Now, tell me what happened,” he said, nailing her with a stare. “And tell me the truth.”

Stay tuned for my review in the coming weeks!

Interested? You can find out more about MASTERING HER SENSES on Goodreads, and pre-order it in advance of its Feb 21st release on Barnes & Noble and iBooks and Kobo.

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Meet the Masters of Blasphemy in Hard to Serve, Bound to Submit (novel #1), Mastering Her Senses (Novel #2 out: 2/21/17) and Eyes on You (novel #3  out: 7/11/17)

“A searingly sexy story with some of the hottest scenes I’ve read in a long, long time. Laura Kaye shows her mastery of the BDSM world. I’m eagerly anticipating more in this bold new series!”
~ Cherise Sinclair, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters of the Shadowlands Series

“Smoldering and sexy, Laura Kaye’s Blasphemy series is everything I look for in a romance. Haunted heroes and strong heroines populate this one of a kind club and I can’t wait to see the big bad Doms fall one by one.”
~ Lexi Blake, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters and Mercenaries Series

Laura Kaye - author picAbout the Author:
Laura Kaye is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense, including the Hard Ink and upcoming Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

Catch up with Laura on her website, Facebook, Twitter, or her newsletter.

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Guest Post and Giveaway for SPELL FALL!

banner-bt-spell-fall-by-jacob-z-floresHi there! Today I’m sharing a guest post for a new M/M paranormal romance from Jacob Z. Flores. SPELL FALL is the fourth book in his Havenbridge series featuring magic, wizards and mischief.

Catch the Dear Diary post from the author, an excerpt and be sure to scroll down and enter to win a $50 Amazon GC or one of five second prizes of a backlist book!

spell-fallAbout the book:
Love and trust made them soul mates, but destiny might have other plans.
Ever since Drake Carpenter fell in love with warlock Mason Blackmoor, his life has been one supernatural battle after another, but Drake doesn’t mind… much. To be with Mason and experience the magical connection they share, Drake would face entire hordes of vampyren, shifters, or fae—and he has. Luckily Drake is immune to magic, though no one can explain his natural ability to negate almost any enchantment. With Drake’s own family gone, Mason is all he has. So why is Drake experiencing disturbing dreams about Mason that terrify him?

A new threat looms on the horizon, and a revelation about Drake’s identity and the true origin of his bond with Mason shatters everything Drake believes. If Drake, Mason, and all of magic are to survive the coming Spell Fall, the most destructive curse in sorcery, Drake must deal with the truth and fight his way back to Mason—because their enemies are gaining strength, and they intend to reach the boy Drake loves first.

Some fun insights in to this series from the author!

Dear Diary, Part III
Hi, everyone! I’m Jacob Z. Flores, and it’s another day on my promotional tour for Spell Fall, the fourth book of my Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge series, which follows the lives of Mason, Thad, and Pierce Blackmoor, three magical brothers.

Each brother has narrated his own book, where he battled the enemies that threatened his life and the magical community. In each book, the brothers also found true love.

For the remainder of the series, the brothers hand over the narrating role to their boyfriends, and Mason’s human boyfriend Drake is the first up to bat.

Spell Fall kicks off the second and final story arc of the series, so to prepare readers for the fourth book I’ve shared two entries from Drake’s journal that have explained what has been happening in Havenbridge since we last left the mystical town.

Today, I’ll be sharing the third and final entry that will lead us right to chapter one in Spell Fall.

Happy reading!

January 31
Dear Diary,
It’s been weeks since we returned from Aeaea and put a stop to Ben and Sersie, and we still haven’t heard a peep out of the Conclave. That’s made things a little…tense around here.

Mr. Blackmoor has been spending more and more time in his room. Pierce has been angrier than a wet hen, and Thad’s grown so cold and distant he’s practically covered in frost. Not even Aiden has been able to thaw him out.

And Mason? Well, he puts on a good front. He cracks jokes and acts like an ass, pretending as if everything is okay, but it isn’t. It’s not like he really believes that anyway. He’s trying to take our minds off our crap and I love him for it, but it isn’t helping.

Especially with tomorrow hanging over my head.

God, I don’t even want to think about tomorrow. Maybe that’s why I’ve been throwing myself into pretty much every book in the Blackmoor’s magical library, searching for answers that just aren’t there. Because it’s easier to deal with this mystical mess than to deal with…I just have to say it (or write it). Maybe that will force me to accept what I don’t want to accept.

Tomorrow, I say good-bye to Aunt Millie.

I know what you’re thinking, Diary. She’s been…gone for months now, but she’s not really gone, is she? She’s a vampyre, an undead monster that’s tried to kill me more times than I can count.

But tomorrow isn’t about my vampyre aunt Millie. Tomorrow is about the woman who took me in after my parents died. Tomorrow is about saying good-bye to her house now that it’s finally sold and to all the memories we made there together.

Tomorrow, that chapter in my life closes once and for all. Whether I’m ready or not.

And I’m not ready. I’ve been avoiding it, but those days are over. The new owners closed on the house last week and will be moving in soon. When they do, they’ll erase the last piece of Aunt Millie I have left and replace it with their possessions, their memories.

All I’ll have left is the Aunt Millie who wants to kill me.

Mason, God love him, is driving me to her house tomorrow. He wants me to say good-bye. He thinks that will give me closure, and he’s partly right. I need to say farewell to the wonderful woman she’ll always be to me, and I need to do it on my terms.

Maybe it will make facing her again as a vampyre easier. I doubt it, but hey, anything’s possible, right?

But no matter how hard tomorrow will be, knowing Mason will be by my side, where he’s been since I met him, gives me the strength I need to do what has to be done.

I love him so much. He’s been more than my rock lately. He’s been my compass, pointing me home. What would I do without him?

Hopefully, I’ll never have to find out.

How about a little taste?

A succession of loud bangs jolted me awake. I sat up, pulled open the nightstand drawer, and reached inside for the pistol I kept there for times such as these. When my hand didn’t close around the cool silver butt of the gun, I panicked. Where the hell was it?

“Fuuuuck!” Mason groaned in bed next to me. “Leave us alone.”

“Get your lazy asses out of bed. We’ve got shit to do.”

It was Pierce on the other side of the door, not—

Not who?

Mason sat up, flipped off the closed door, and burrowed back under the covers.

Pierce banged on the frame three more times. “I mean it. Get your asses downstairs in fifteen minutes or Dad’ll be the one coming up here to get you.”

Crap. We definitely didn’t want that. Mr. Blackmoor didn’t tolerate tardiness. He’d transform his body into stone and turn the bedroom door into splinters. “We’ll be right down.”

Pierce grunted before his footsteps padded back downstairs.

I nudged Mason with my foot. “Wake up.”

“Can’t. Tired. Need sleep.”

What I needed was answers. There was definitely more to that dream from last night.

“Mason, please. We need to talk.”

A low snore was my only reply.

“Somethin’s wrong.”

He sat up as if he were a jack-in-the-box. Even though his eyes were still half-closed and his black hair resembled a rat’s nest, the hum of his shadow powers filled the room. “Who is it? What is it? Tell me where to shoot.”

I sighed before placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Jeez. Power down before you blast me.” The hateful gaze of the Mason in my dream filled my memory. I shook the image from my mind and took several deep breaths.

“Did you have that dream again?”

“I don’t think it was a dream.”

He scrunched up his lips and glanced sideways at me. “Then what the hell was it?”

That was the million-dollar question.

Interested? You can find SPELL FALL on Goodreads, Dreamspinner Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo.

Check out the previous books in the series, too!
series-collage-the-warlock-brothers-of-havenbridgeSpell Bound, Book #1: Goodreads, Dreamspinner Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo.

Blood Tied, Book #2: Goodreads, Dreamspinner Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo.

Soul Struck, Book #3: Goodreads, Dreamspinner Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo.

****GIVEAWAY****

Click on this Rafflecopter giveaway link for your chance to win a $50 Amazon GC or one of Jacob’s backlist books.
Good luck and keep reading my friends.

Jacob Flores - Author PicAbout the Author:

Jacob Z. Flores lives a double life. During the day, he is a respected college English professor and mid-level administrator. At night and during his summer vacation, he loosens the tie and tosses aside the trendy sports coat to write man on man fiction, where the hard ass assessor of freshmen level composition turns his attention to the firm posteriors and other rigid appendages of the characters in his fictional world.

Summers in Provincetown, Massachusetts, provide Jacob with inspiration for his fiction. The abundance of barely clothed man flesh and daily debauchery stimulates his personal muse.

When he isn’t stroking the keyboard, Jacob spends time with his daughter. They both represent a bright blue blip in an otherwise predominantly red swath in south Texas.

Catch up to Jacob on his website, Facebook, twitter, Goodreads, and Tumblr.

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