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Release Blitz: Vegas Edge Box Set by Rosemary Willhide

14/2/2020

Title: Vegas Edge Box Set

Author: Rosemary Willhide

Genre: Contemporary Romance, BDSM, Mystery

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Forbidden temptation, secret desires and a raging fury of passion await you in the Vegas Edge series. Take a peek behind the curtain with three couples residing at the exclusive Vegas Edge Country Club.

By day they work hard taking their careers to the next level. At night they play even harder, putting the sin in Sin City.

Are you curious? Ready for a walk on the wild side? Fasten your seat belts for a ride filled with taboo pleasures, heart-pounding suspense and swoony romance that will leave you breathless.

In submission, there is discovery and strength.
In dominance, there is respect and compassion.
In both, there is love.

Warning: This Box Set is NSFW. The author recommends fresh batteries, a cold beverage and a fan!

Publisher Note: Contains all 3 full-length novels from the Vegas Edge series--Temptation, Desire and Fury.

Excerpt . . .

Jess and Adam: Temptation (Book 1)

The sweetest smile lit up her face. “I’m yours.”
Our lips came together in a frenzy of fuck lust. I flipped her onto her back, climbed on top of her and buried myself balls deep inside that tight pussy. I was taking what was mine, and Jess was freely giving herself to me with every stroke. She relinquished her body, mind, and soul to me when we came together. It was a heavy responsibility. She’d put her trust, heart, and her very life in my hands. And when she peeked up at me after our climax, all I could think was . . . Don’t fuck up!

About the Author . . .

I write kinky romance. I love the art of play, in life and with words.

I’m an actress, turned fitness instructor, turned author of naughty shenanigans. I’ve told stories and entertained people my entire life. Writing is my favorite because I don’t have to leave the house or put on pants. Plus, the voices in my head always do what I say, for the most part. LOL!

I live in Las Vegas with my husband, Bill and our adopted pooches, Harley and Brownie. I still teach cycling classes. It keeps me sane-ish.

Welcome to my world.

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Release Blitz & Review: Teacher I Want to Date by Mia Kayla

14/2/2020

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Title: Teacher I Want to Date

Author: Mia Kayla

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Rating: ♪ ♪ ♪ 1/2

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Dear V̶e̶r̶y̶ ̶H̶o̶t̶ Crazy Woman,

You didn’t have to call the cops on me.
I was just looking after my niece.
Okay… maybe I shouldn't have been spying on her date. But I know how teenage boys think and what they want.
Did it make you feel good scolding me in front of everyone for just being a good uncle?
B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶d̶a̶m̶n̶,̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶e̶d̶ ̶g̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶d̶o̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶t̶.̶
I’m almost positive you were cussing me out and if I understood a lick of Spanish, I’d have s̶h̶u̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶u̶p̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶a̶ ̶k̶i̶s̶s̶ told you exactly what I thought about your meddling, even if you are her teacher.
In fact, I’d like to schedule a d̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶o̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶d̶i̶n̶n̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶w̶i̶n̶e̶ parent teacher conference to discuss our differing views on raising the youth of today s̶o̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶a̶m̶e̶ ̶p̶a̶g̶e̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶c̶h̶i̶l̶d̶r̶e̶n̶—̶p̶r̶e̶f̶e̶r̶a̶b̶l̶y̶ ̶t̶o̶g̶e̶t̶h̶e̶r̶.̶

Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶F̶u̶t̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶H̶u̶s̶b̶a̶n̶d̶
Mason Brisken

Excerpt . . .

Mason

I watched Sarah’s friends for thirty minutes. Whatever Tall Guy’s name was, I didn’t care because I didn’t like him. He was into my niece. There was no doubt about it. It was in the way he sat opposite her, and when she talked to Macy or Caroline, he’d simply stare and smile and practically drool.
Stare all you want, Tall Boy. ’Cause that’s all you’re ever going to do.
Twenty minutes later, Sarah scooted out of her booth. So did Macy and Caroline.
But hell, so did Tall Guy and the other two guys with them.
So, I stood too.
Good detectives didn’t let their suspects out of sight.
Where are they heading?
My eyes followed them to the corner where it looked like there was another room. From where I sat, I could see pinball machines and a Pac-Man machine.
Game room. Okay, that is public enough.
When they entered the room, I adjusted my cap and walked to the corner, where I could spy through the glass window. Call me the new Spy Guy.
I rested against the doorframe and peered in. There were a slew of teenagers and little kids in there. I’d never been here before, so I hadn’t known a game room in a pizza joint was even a thing.
Macy, Sarah, and Tall Guy were in the far corner. Sarah was playing Pac-Man, and she jumped every time she passed a level. She killed it at this game. I should know. I was the one who had taught her how to play.
I froze when Tall Guy leaned in closer. His hip rested on the game, and whatever he’d said was making Sarah laugh. Again.
My fists clenched at my sides, and every muscle in my body tightened.
What the hell was he saying that was so damn hilarious that he could make the girl who hardly laughed at comedy shows laugh?
How the hell can she play when you’re basically in front of the screen, idiot?
Then, his hand grazed her hip. And shit, that was where Spy Guy’s Spidey senses kicked the fuck in.
I’m telling your dad, I practically singsonged in my head. It almost could be followed up by, Na-na-na-na boo-boo.
Immature, I knew, but this was what I was saying. No one, not even my family, ever listened to what I was saying.
I took out my phone and snapped a picture. Yes, I was going to tell Daddy because this shit needed to stop.
“What are you doing?” A sharp voice cut through the air.
And I turned around and was shocked at the beautiful, short brunette in front of me.
It didn’t take more than a nanosecond to see how this looked. I was tongue-tied, and my phone was out, pointed at the kids. This did not look good.
Little Miss Beautiful was so not happy to see me.
Me, on the other hand … I couldn’t stop staring at her.

Chapter Four
Gabby
You only heard about these creeps on the news, or when you read about their latest victims. I’d never in my life seen one live in action. It was as if tiny spiders crawled over every inch of my body. And I’d never wanted to punch anyone in my life as badly as I did this man in front of me. Not even my ex-boyfriend.
“What are you doing?” I shouted. Because, hell yeah, everyone in this restaurant should hear what I was about to say.
I’d been watching this guy for the last forty-five minutes, staring at my students from across the room. When he’d started following them, I wasn’t having it.
He had his phone out and had taken a picture of my students. I wouldn’t let this get any further than that.
My nostrils flared, and my whole body flamed with fury. “I want to know why you are taking pictures of children.”
His eyes flickered to our surroundings and to the kids playing in the room. “It’s not what you think.” His brown eyes bulged, and he shook his head so hard that I was afraid he’d dislocate something.
Well-fitted jeans. A Cubs T-shirt that clung to his chest, showing casing his arms. And a Cubs hat. He looked alarmingly normal, good-looking even. But so had Ted Bundy and look at how many women he’d killed.
I popped out a hip. “It’s exactly what I think.”
Everyone’s attention was on us. The huge family at the far end of the room, the older couple in the corner, the group of teenagers just inside the game room.
“Give me your phone.” I held my hand out as my whole body tensed.
“I will not.” He jerked back, looking at me like I was the crazy one.
Gah! I wanted to punch his face and use my kickboxing skills so damn bad.
“Delete that picture.” My voice increased with mounting rage as I stared him down.
He grabbed my arm and leaned in, speaking in a low tone, “Lower your voice, and I’ll explain.”
I shrugged him off and reeled back. “Get your filthy hands off me.”
This had gone far enough. Even if he deleted the picture, these type of men were repeat offenders. He needed help or jail time.
“I’m calling the cops.”
“What? No!” He panicked, gripping my elbow with more force this time.
“Get off me, jerkface! Now, I’m going to charge you with battery.” My eyes blazed fire, and it took all my composure to stay put and not go postal. I reached for my phone in my purse and dialed.
“Nine-one-one,” the female operator answered.
“I’d like to report a crime,” I said shakily, my rage getting to me.
Crazy Guy’s eyes went wide. “Woman, what are you doing?”
“Yes, I’m at Jack’s Pizza Place at the mall. I witnessed this older male stalk these children, walk in, and follow them to a table where he could spy. He watched them for forty-five minutes before he followed them to the game room where he took a picture of the kids.”
Crazy Guy flinched as if my words had hurt him.
“Was there physical harm done to the children?” the operator asked.
I scrunched my face, and my voice lowered into the receiver. “Uh, no. But he took their picture.”
“Taking pictures is not against the law, ma’am. Are they your children?”
“No,” I spat out. This operator grated on my nerves. “They’re not. I’m their teacher, and for your information, I think you’re wrong.”
Crazy Guy clasped his hand over his head. “You’re their teacher.”
I ignored him. “Well, I want to press charges for assault then.”
“Assault?” He threw up both hands. “How the hell did I assault you?”
“You grabbed me despite my protests—twice.” I lifted my nose and shot him a look. “Assault.”

At the beginning, I found it hard to get into the story. I'm not quite sure what it was but I just couldn't enjoy it as much as Boss I Love to Hate.

Mason is a great guy who wants to be the best uncle he can be. So when he feels like his niece is slipping away, he tries harder to hold onto her. Of course that back fires. He is going to realise soon enough that teenage years are filled with angst and tantrums. Gabby... I wasn't really able to love her as much as I hoped. I mean the two of them together are great because they are opposites. Mason likes to plan and Gabby is spontaneous. They have close knit families and their relatives are entertaining and it was fun seeing their interactions.

When I reached the end, I still wasn't able to connect with the story as much as I wanted but I think this was just a personal thing and not related to the story or writing. What I did love was the emphasis on family and the importance of maintaining connections and relationships with loved ones. There are some good moments filled with laughter and some awkward moments between characters that make you cringe and be grateful it was happening to someone else and not you.

About the Author . . .

Mia Kayla is a New Adult/Contemporary Romance writer who lives in Illinois. She is the wife to the husband of the year and mommy to three unbelievable cute little girls who have multiplied her grey hairs.

In her free time she loves reading romance novels, jamming to boy bands, catching up on celebrity gossip and designing flowers for weddings.

Most of the time, she can be caught on the train with her nose in a book sporting a cheeky grin because the main characters finally get their happily-ever-after at the end.

She loves reading about happy endings but has more fun writing them.

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Also available . . .

Title: Boss I Love to Hate

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Release Blitz: Lost Girl by Dee Garcia

13/2/2020

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Title: Lost Girl
(#2 of Rosewood Realm)

Author: Dee Garcia

Genre: Dark Romance, Paranormal

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Wendy
I was just a normal girl in a normal human world. I’d loved. I’d lost. I’d grieved, and after some time, I moved on.
Then, and quite suddenly, he returned.
He—Peter Pan, my first love; a monster in disguise.
In the end, he paid the ultimate price, but his demise wasn’t enough.
Now, I’m paying off the interest, dragged into a realm filled with wicked creatures I thought only existed in fairy tales and lores.
They want answers.
And I have none to give.
But the proverbial hourglass is draining of sand, and as darkness consumes, I find myself accepting the fact I’ll never make it home.
I’ll die at their merciless hands.
That is, until one valiant creature intervenes—leader of The Lost Boys.
The Alpha.

Tavi
Finding Wendy was by sheer chance.
From the moment I saw her, I was blasted with this fierce sense of duty.
I can’t explain it.
All I knew was, I had the save her.
So I did, brought her back to the Woodlands—The Lost Boys’ stomping grounds. But her connection to Peter leaves her as ostracized as he once found himself.
Until her mortality poses a concern, one the factions can’t ignore.
One no one has answers for, either.
Both my father and the Sacred Six warn there might not be any, but that doesn’t deter Wendy from trying to find a solution.
Despite such pressing matters, though, there’s a singular thought that incessantly crosses my mind.
Proof that fate is real.
She’s mine.
And I’ll be damned if anyone—or anything—tries to rip my little wolf away from me.

Book Trailer . . .

About the Author . . .

Dee Garcia is a voracious fan of romance novels and a long time lover of the written word. Her mission is to craft unique, compelling stories that will give her readers a place to briefly escape the trials and tribulations of everyday reality. With headstrong heroine's who don't need a man to stand on their own two feet, Dee hopes to leave her mark in the Indie world, one plot twist at a time.

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Also in the series . . .

Title: Venom
(#1 of Rosewood Realm)

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Release Blitz & Giveaway: Emerald by Sophie Lark

12/2/2020

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Title: Emerald
(#5 of Colors of Crime)

Author: Sophie Lark

Genre: Romantic Suspense, Dark

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She Tried To Kill Me...

She crept into my room with a syringe full of poison.

Now she’s my prisoner.

She refuses to tell me who sent her or why.

But I’ll get every last secret out of her. Through pleasure or through punishment.

I captured her and now she belongs to me…

“Emerald” is a dark and dominating mafia romance, Book 5 in the Colors of Crime series. It’s a stand-alone novel, full of intrigue, danger, and sexy bedroom scenes. Contains spanking, so if such material offends you, do not read.

Excerpt . . .

I was only six years old the first time I fired a gun. Eight when my father forced me to hold my breath again and again in a bathtub full of ice water. Twelve when he made me survive three nights alone in northern Maine in the winter.
I know my father wasn’t right in the head. The problem is that when you work for the CIA most of your adult life, it’s hard to distinguish between paranoia and actual threats.
It took me longer than it should have to figure out something was wrong. That some of the things my father was seeing weren’t actually there. The cars “following” us. The “messages” he was being sent.
I had no frame of reference. I’d never attended a normal school. I had no friends. My father was my whole world. He was the smartest, most capable person I knew. The idea that he might be crazy was just . . . too horrible to accept.
I push those memories to the back of my mind. I can’t get distracted.
I’ve cleared the ground floor of the west wing. If Ivan Petrov’s rooms are on this side of the house, they must be upstairs.
I climb the stairs, entering a hallway that seems to lead to several bedrooms. All the closed doors are identical. Which one is Ivan’s?
As I keep walking, there’s a break between the doors, with a library on the left, and what looks like an office on the right. And then beyond that, at the end of the hallway, a set of double doors.
Bingo.
If there’s a master suite beyond those doors, it surely belongs to Ivan Petrov.
Does he lock his doors at night?
I carefully test the old-fashioned handles. They move easily beneath my hand.
With aching slowness, I crack the right-hand door.
It’s dark inside the suite, the blinds drawn. I slip through the door, closing it silently behind me. I stand still, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom.
I believe I’m in a sitting room, with the bedroom somewhere beyond.
Holding my own breath, I think I can hear the slow inhale and exhale of someone sleeping close by. It’s the breathing of a large man, broad in the chest. Large lungs, a vast, slumbering body.
Ivan Petrov. I know it.
I’ve watched him from a distance. I’ve seen his intensity, his ferocity. The way his men snap to attention when he comes close, the way they obey his orders without question. I’ve seen his vigi- lance, the look of intelligence on his face. And, of course, I’ve seen his massive, powerful body. He wears a suit every day, but I’ve seen the round muscles of his shoulders and biceps even beneath the thick material of the suit jacket.
I don’t want to get in a scuffle with this man. Nor do I want to risk firing a gun in a house stuffed full of his soldiers, not even with a silencer and a pillow wrapped round it.
So I’ve brewed up a special cocktail for Ivan Petrov. I take it out of my pocket now.
A single syringe of clear amber fluid. Once I drive it into his neck, he’ll be immobilized in moments. It will flood through his bloodstream, turning his limbs to stone. His chest will seize up until he won’t be able to draw a single breath. Remembering his mass, I’ve used enough paralytic to freeze a racehorse in its tracks.
It won’t look like an accident, but that wasn’t a requirement of the job. I just have to kill him and get out without getting caught.
I move through the sitting room, into the bedroom beyond. With the minute amount of light coming through the cracks in the blinds, I can just barely see Ivan’s vast form, laying on the bed. He’s sprawled out on his back, one thick arm flung up over his head. His heavily muscled and tattooed chest is bare. There’s a patch of dark hair in the center of his chest, and a thin line trailing down the center of his stomach, disappearing under the sheet.
I suspect he’s completely naked under there, without even a pair of boxer shorts. I can’t help glancing toward the bulge under the thin sheet. It’s a shame to kill a specimen like this, right in his prime.
But there’s half a million dollars on the line. And if I don’t kill Ivan Petrov, someone else will.
So I might as well get my money.
I approach the bed. Nothing could be more silent than my feet, taking step after step across the thick oriental rug. I wear the same kind of shoes that rock-climbers wear—thin, flexible, grippy. Little more than leather slippers, and quiet as bare feet.
Petrov’s head is thrown back on the pillow, his throat exposed. His dark hair tumbles across his eyes. His lips are slightly parted. His breathing hasn’t changed—it’s still a steady metronome. But I’m about to put a stop to it.
I slip the cap off the needle. I grip the syringe in my fist, my thumb above the depressor.
As I raise my right hand in the air, above his neck, I can’t help glancing one more time at Ivan’s face.
His dark brown eyes are open, staring up at me.

Giveaway . . .

About the Author . . .

Sophie lives with her husband, two boys, and baby girl in the Rocky Mountain west. She writes intense, intelligent romance, with heroines who are strong and capable, and men who will do anything to capture their hearts.

She has a slight obsession with hiking, bodybuilding, and live comedy shows. Her perfect day would be taking the kids to Harry Potter World, going dancing with Mr. Lark, then relaxing with a good book and a monster bag of salt and vinegar chips.

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