Blog + Excerpt Tour: Beauty of the Beast by Rachel Demeter

Beauty of the Beast

by Rachel L. Demeter
Fairy Tale Retellings, #1
Publication Date: March 15, 2017
Genres: Historical Romance, Fairy Tale Retelling, Gothic Romance, Adult

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🌹 Book Blurb 🌹

Experience the world’s most enchanting and timeless love story—retold with a dark and realistic twist.

A BEAST LIVING IN THE SHADOW OF HIS PAST

Reclusive and severely scarred Prince Adam Delacroix has remained hidden inside a secluded, decrepit castle ever since he witnessed his family’s brutal massacre. Cloaked in shadow, with only the lamentations of past ghosts for company, he has abandoned all hope, allowing the world to believe he died on that tragic eve twenty-five years ago.

A BEAUTY IN PURSUIT OF A BETTER FUTURE

Caught in a fierce snowstorm, beautiful and strong-willed Isabelle Rose seeks shelter at a castle—unaware that its beastly and disfigured master is much more than he appears to be. When he imprisons her gravely ill and blind father, she bravely offers herself in his place.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Stripped of his emotional defenses, Adam’s humanity reawakens as he encounters a kindred soul in Isabelle. Together they will wade through darkness and discover beauty and passion in the most unlikely of places. But when a monster from Isabelle’s former life threatens their new love, Demrov’s forgotten prince must emerge from his shadows and face the world once more…

Perfect for fans of Beauty and the Beast and The Phantom of the Opera, Beauty of the Beast brings a familiar and well-loved fairy tale to life with a rich setting in the kingdom of Demrov and a captivating, Gothic voice.

Beauty of the Beast is the first standalone installment in a series of classic fairy tales reimagined with a dark and realistic twist.

Disclaimer: This is an edgy retelling of the classic fairy tale. Due to strong sexual content, profanity, and dark subject matter, including an instance of sexual assault committed by the villain, Beauty of the Beast is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

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🌹 EXCERPT 🌹

~ The East Tower ~

Arms sprang out from the darkness. They spun her full circle and slammed her body against the king’s portrait. Isabelle gasped, more in shock than from pain, as she stared into Adam’s deformed face. The lantern flickered behind his massive form, casting his cloaked body in silhouette. But she saw enough to know he was far from pleased. Rage and frustration radiated from his body like a palpable force.

“I warned you to stay out of here,” he said, his voice dangerously cold and deep. Those rugged vocals vibrated against her body and seeped into her marrow. “What part of forbidden didn’t you comprehend?” His voice lashed out from the darkness like a hurtled knife, and the word “forbidden” seemed to whisper another meaning altogether. Isabelle tried to answer but failed to find her voice. Indeed, her vocal cords had turned to solid ice, as numb and cold as the blood rushing through her veins. She couldn’t breathe; she felt like she was suffocating.

“My mother gave me that musical box on my fourth birthday,” he said, the sensual lull of his voice causing the fine hairs on her nape to stand erect. “And now your recklessness has destroyed it. Have you nothing to say?”

“I—I’m sorry.” He offered no reply; only the ragged sound of his breathing and the hammering blizzard broke the silence. “Please—I didn’t mean any harm.”

She struggled under the weight of Adam’s colossal body and battled to free herself. He merely gave a low chuckle and pressed her firmly against the portrait. He looked otherworldly at that moment, like an angel of death seeking vengeance. Both beautiful and monstrous, his cool, sapphire eyes overflowed with warring emotions. In spite of his harsh and ruthless exterior, she detected a quaver in his voice and saw that his large, cloaked shoulders trembled. The darkness in his soul cast a shadow that embraced her; as she peered up at him, she knew he was drowning in the turbulent waters of a past time.

“What a disappointment,” he went on, his voice growing deeper still, mocking her words from so many days ago, “You’re like any other woman.”

“I—I’m sorry. Please, Adam. I—” Her gaze shot past his body and over the wreckage of a past life. She thought of her private chamber again—of the stale perfumes and outdated garments.

Her flight or fight instinct seized hold of her. She attempted to scramble free, but he merely grabbed her shoulder and whirled her back against the portrait. Gloves wrapped his hands; his long, silk-clad fingers grasped her shoulder and kept her firmly in place.

He stood intimately close.

Far too close.

As close as Raphael had been that night.

“Going somewhere, ma belle? After you’ve worked so hard to find my East Tower?”

Hands like two steel bands held her wrists in place. Hot breaths, which faintly smelled of wine, seared her cheeks and assaulted her senses. Her breasts flattened against the pressure of his strong chest, and she felt that same chest swell and deflate in perfect sync with her own. One large hand slipped down her elbow and glided across her extended arm. The lush material of his gloves drew a shudder from her heaving chest. His breathing grew more ragged, shallower, and the erratic beat of his heart banged against her own.

Anger and desire warred on his face, twisting his features into a mess of both monster and man. “Find anything of interest, aside from my musical box? Come, come. You went through such great trouble to get here,” he asked, his voice now threaded with both anger and something else.

Yes, Isabelle recognized that something else. It was the same note that had entered Raphael’s voice that night…

She attempted to duck under his arm, but he moved swiftly, capturing her in the crook of his elbow. Reeling her toward him, he emitted a low, haunting chuckle that swelled the eastern tower to its rafters. She was back where she’d started—pinned against the portrait, Adam’s body serving as a flesh-and-blood blockade.

Hunger radiated from him, enfolding her in a current of sizzling power. His silk-clad hand grazed the curve of her breast as it moved down her body in a painfully slow caress. Even more alarming was her reaction to him. Her treacherous body responded with a crush of hot and cold pulsating waves. Then he whispered a taunt in her ear, and his liquid baritone slid down her backbone like honey; it swirled inside her, finding its home in her most intimate area.

He leaned closer still. His face’s uneven skin brushed against her neck, the black waves of his hair tickled her chin… His thick arousal expanded against her, reminding her of what he was capable of—and of her sheer vulnerability.

His lips teased the base of her throat. Cursing her traitorous body, Isabelle gasped at the gentle scraping of his teeth. His tongue and lips tormented her throbbing pulse—just barely, stirring her skin in a mere ghost of a touch.

🌹 Meet the Author 🌹

Rachel L. Demeter lives in the beautiful hills of Anaheim, California with Teddy, her goofy lowland sheepdog, and her high school sweetheart of fourteen years. She enjoys writing poignant romances that challenge the reader’s emotions and explore the redeeming power of love.

Imagining dynamic worlds and characters has been Rachel’s passion for longer than she can remember. Before learning how to read or write, she would dictate stories while her mother would record them for her. She holds a special affinity for the tortured hero and unconventional romances. Whether crafting the protagonist or antagonist, she ensures every character is given a soul.

Rachel endeavors to defy conventions by blending elements of romance, suspense, and horror. Some themes her stories never stray too far from: forbidden romance, soul mates, the power of love to redeem, mend all wounds, and triumph over darkness.

Her dream is to move readers and leave an emotional impact through her words.

Don’t be a stranger! Rachel loves to connect and interact with her readers:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter | Amazon Author Profile | Instagram

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Excerpt Book Blitz: Pucked by Rachel Walter

Pucked
By: Rachel Walter
 
 

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Does life get in the way of love or does love get in the way of life?

Riley Silk, captain of the Warriors Ice Hockey team at Dalesburg High, doesn’t think life can be lived if love is present. If there’s two things in life he knows to be true, it’s that love causes pain and hockey is his ticket to a better life. He’s worked hard to maintain his Frozen Silk reputation in order to stay focused on his duties and goals.

Audrey Jacobs, the Warriors’ number one fan, believes life can’t be lived without love. She can find love and beauty in the muddiest of situations. Her best friend, Riley, is under a lot of stress at home, so she does her best to brighten his mood whenever she can.

When lines cross and blur, they struggle to keep control of the simplicity their friendship once held. With Audrey’s outlook on life usually surrounded by light, the growing darkness of her doubts and insecurities threaten to deflect her toward the wrong path.

Can she find her true self before her world burns around her? When truths become lies, can Riley find the strength to fight his way through his own personal darkness that clings to his mind and soul? Can he win this face-off that life has dropped in his zone, or will fate take him out of the game completely?

Who keeps the puck?

**Warning- Several abuse topics are discussed in this story, which includes parental alienation, physical abuse, alcohol abuse, and mild drug abuse.**

 



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Riley

“This or that?” Audrey asks.
I drum my fingers on the armrest as I think. “Music or movies?”
She glances at me sideways. “Music. Fiction or non-fiction.”
“Fiction. Dancing or singing?”
She laughs. “Dancing in the rain. Dancing on ice or falling on ice?”
“I practically danced on the ice tonight!” I snort. “I don’t fall…often.”
“I don’t mean that kind of dancing.”
“Like? A slow dance or something?” She nods. “And shall I ask Rob to be my partner?”
“Well, you could do a crazy one armed, one legged, booty shakin’ dance after a win,” she offers.
I laugh, loudly. “Where do you come up with this?” She shrugs a shoulder as she merges with interstate traffic. “In that case, fall. High heels or bikini wax?”
“You say fall because you’re a chicken. Do you even know what a bikini wax is?”
“If it’s like the name…then yes, and I’m not a chicken.”
“You are too, and I’d choose high heels. Feathers or snow?”
“You’d break your ankle! Snow. I’m still not a chicken,” I argue.
“I’d likely break both, but you are a chicken.”
“Will you stop calling me a chicken?”
The sound of her laughter centers me, I was meant to be right here with her. Just to hear her voice, her laugh…
“I will stop when you do a one armed, one legged, booty shakin’ dance on ice for me.” I hang my head. “Oh, and it has to be after a win, on home ice, and everyone has to see it.”
“Not gonna happen, Aud.”
“Same as usual, Chicken?” she asks as we pull into McDonalds drive-thru.
“Not a chicken, yes.”
“Okay.” She waits with the window cracked for an employee to take our order. A feminine voice comes through, asking what we’ll have. “One chocolate shake for the chicken and one vanilla shake for the tomboy,” she replies with a laugh.
“How many piece chicken nugget?”
Audrey laughs harder. “No chicken please, just the two shakes.”
“See, a sign you should knock the chicken shit off.”
“Not a chance, Chicken.” She clucks for good measure.
“No electricity or no plumbing,” I ask, hoping to pull her away from the teasing.
“No electricity, Chicken. One girl or all the girls?”
“One,” I say, burning a hole in the side of her head.
“Aw, a romantic chicken. I don’t think I’ve ever heard about one of those.” She tilts her face toward mine. Both of us just staring at the other, with very little space between us. My eyes fall shut and I lean back further into my seat. Way to make things awkward again, idiot. Chicken.
“Pink or purple?” I ask.
She groans, passing me the milkshakes the guy in at the window handed her. “Purple. Doer or dreamer?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek as I work the straws out of their wrappers. “Doer.” I’m too much of a dreamer. Or planner, but I don’t follow through.

 

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Rachel Walter is a wife and mother first and a coffee-addicted,chuck-wearing, hockey-watching, snark-spewing author second. She primarily writes Young Adult, but enjoys challenging herself in other genres, like Adult Contemporary. In 2012, Rachel began writing her first novel, True Connection, which she published in 2013. True Connection was re-released in 2014 as part of a boxed set, Pandora, which landed on USA Today’s Best Seller list. When she’s not writing or making images for her Instagram feature, #authorslog, she can be found doing almost anything in south central Pennsylvania, where she lives, to avoid washing dishes.
Social Media links
snapchat: rachelw_auth

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Rachel_Walter

Excerpt Tour for Secrets Don’t Make Friends by Lyla Payne

secretfriends

Suspense/Thriller
Date Published: 11/17/2015

Jeyne Dalton has graduated from college, medical school, and has slogged through half of a surgical internship year with flying colors, which she figures HAS to mean she’s put her past – and her family – behind her for good. If only she hadn’t answered that random ad for a roommate, her life would be pretty damn perfect.

Dinah Robbins knows that, no matter what she does, the horror that is her life will never be behind her…unless her controlling, threatening, abusive boyfriend finally kills her. She’s floating, waiting, and advertised for a roommate as a last ditch, listless effort to save herself a few beatings here and there.

Jeyne and Dinah may have been roommates for months, but they’re not anything like friends. In fact, they hardly know each other at all – until the night Jeyne comes home late to find Dinah in a heap of trouble. The two girls then find themselves sharing a secret that brings them together in a way they never expected. And upends their lives in a way they may never be able to set right.
officialexcerpt

“That was…hilarious… Good one,” I gasped, because it was.

She didn’t reply, her dark, in-need-of-a-tweeze eyebrows nearly buried in her hairline. She seemed to gather herself after a moment, hiking her messenger bag up on her shoulder and checking her cell phone. The others moved closer, including Jeyne in our group by accident, all wanting to know what had tickled me so thoroughly. My laugh felt rusty, a little raw against my throat.

The guy whose name I’d purposefully forgot put out a hand and laid it on my arm, his brown eyes playful. “Are you going to be okay there? Need any medical attention?”

Before I could point out that my roommate was a doctor or slip out from under his touch, Tritt appeared out of thin air, elbowing Jeyne roughly out of the way. The movement knocked her glasses askew, and she glared as she straightened them. The fire in her eyes, her clear hatred of Tritt, almost made me like her.

It did make me question my assumption that she had a working brain between her ears, though. People didn’t glare at Tritt. He did what he wanted, and the rest of us edged out of the way.

Tritt’s long, strong fingers wrapped around my upper arm, pinching hard. My cardigan hid the roughness of his squeeze, and I smiled through the pain and stepped toward him as he yanked so it looked as though I’d meant to do it, unwilling to let him embarrass me.

“Hey, baby.” He might as well have said You’re a fucking whore because it was easy enough for everyone to extrapolate the insult from his tone. The small crowd’s immediate discomfort displayed in pained expressions, averted gazes, and shuffling feet.

I attempted to keep smiling through the nerves tightening my cheeks. It was all for nothing since Tritt’s gaze wasn’t anywhere near me but shooting daggers at the new guy, who had made two mistakes: talking to me and touching me.

“Hi.” I slid the abused arm around his waist, trying to appease him.

The glint in his eyes betrayed the use of a substance other than alcohol and promised my efforts to smooth things over were wasted. Tritt otherwise looked the picture of class with his perfectly coifed, shining blond hair, bright blue eyes, pressed khakis, long-sleeved button-down, and loafers. A well-to-do son following in the footsteps of his business-mogul father. And that’s exactly what people outside Tritt’s immediate reach assumed.

He stepped in front of me, crushing my toe beneath his foot. This time the wince couldn’t be avoided, but his frame hid my pain from everyone except Jeyne, whose eyes narrowed on my face. I rearranged my features into a haughty expression, daring her to say a word.

“Hey, man, I’m—” The new guy stuck out a hand, hesitant but trying to shake it off.

Tritt cut off the attempt at friendliness with a swift elbow to the nose. Blood spurted, splattering like rain on the carpet and dotting my boyfriend’s shirt. As the guy stumbled backward, hands cupping his face and soft eyes swimming with agony and bewilderment, Tritt turned to me with a calm expression.

“Get me a goddamn towel.” His voice settled low and quiet. A warning.

officialAuthor

Lyla Payne has been publishing New Adult romance novels for a little over a year, starting with Broken at Love and continuing with the rest of the Whitman University series and the Lowcountry Ghost stories. She loves telling stories, discovering the little reasons people fall in love, and uncovering hidden truths in the world around us – past and present. In her spare time she cuddles her two dogs, pretends to enjoy exercising so that she can eat as much Chipotle as she wants, and harbors a deep and abiding hope that Zac Efron likes older women. She loves reading, of course, along with movies, traveling, and Irish whiskey.

Lyla Payne is represented by Kathleen Rushall at Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.

If you want to know more, please visit her at http://lylapayne.com

If you’re a fan of Young Adult fiction–science fiction or otherwise–please check out her work that’s published under the name Trisha Leigh. http://trishaleigh.com

Twitter – Facebook – Website – Goodreads – Instagram

Mistletoe Links

Kindle – http://amzn.to/1pEE8ud

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Purchase Links
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Reading Addiction Blog Tours

Blog Tour: Dark Secrets by Evelyne Sants


 

dark secrets

Dark Secrets of the Past
Evelyne Sants
Suspense
Date Published: May 5, 2015

officialsynopMarion, a carefree and rebellious young girl, will discover her childhood, her parents, her entire life has been built on lies.

She will somehow try to rebuild her past, as heavy and painful as it is, in order to move forward and find the child she gave up for adoption before leaving for India for seven years in hopes of forgetting.

While there, she will meet extraordinary people, such as Shilpa, Nazma, Paoli, who will take her on a beautiful and difficult adventure across this country and culture that she barely knows. Unfortunately, the suffering caused by her child’s absence will never disappear.

Upon returning home, her only thought will be to find her child. In her quest for the truth, she will take every risk, discovering a terrifying secret. She will put her life in danger while confronting a terrible revenge.

Will she live up to the incredible journey that awaits her? There’s only one solution – face the past in order to better understand the present, understand the present to better live the future.

officialexcerptHelen looked at her daughter with heartache. There was no denying it. Marion had indeed become a beautiful young woman. Her eyes sparkling, her skin smooth, a flawless complexion, life bursting out of a perfect body, all the energy and vitality of her seventeen years was translated in her every movement.

“Mom! Say something! Please! If you’re so afraid of him, I’ll tell him. I can’t take this anymore. Anyway, there won’t be a problem for getting home after the party. Lucy and her parents are going. I’ll go with them and I’ll sleep over at Lucy’s. There is no reason for dad to be against it.”

Helen understood perfectly well why her daughter wanted so badly to go to the party. Her rebellion was understandable. But she also knew that what her daughter considered the unreasonable whims of a tired and bitter man, were in fact a little more complicated than that.

Helen had become small and muted over the years. The light in her deep, troubling eyes had gone out long ago. The woman who had loved to laugh, filling the room with joy, was now trapped in walls of silence, weighed down with a burden she would never get rid of.

“Marion, believe me, I understand your frustration. But you know how your father is. It’s only going to cause a fight if you insist.”

“You’re afraid of him, Mom! You’ve always been afraid, haven’t you? Good God! He’s your husband! You’ve got to be able to stand up to him for once. It’s as if you owe him your life or something. It’s unbelievable!”

But that was exactly the problem. Perhaps Helen didn’t owe him her life, but she felt she owed him nonetheless. She had made a mistake and she would always have to make up for it. She could not stand up to him or even annoy him.

“Fine! Looking at your worried and anxious face, I’ll take care of it myself!”

Marion stormed off to her room, determined to not give in this time. She left her mother alone with her thoughts and her sadness, to not be able to stand up for the daughter she loved and offer her a happier and easier life.

Later that evening, as usual, Marion heard her father come in. She ran down the stairs to speak with him before he sprawled out on the living room couch, falling asleep for the night.

He was so predictable and the opportunities to talk with him were so rare. His presence in the house was felt solely when he exercised an overbearing authority. He never showed Marion any affection, never an “I love you, Marion, my little girl.”

John hung up his old gray overcoat on the hall-stand in the entrance way. In fact, the worn-out topcoat was the only thing he took off when he came into the house. Most of the time he did not even bother to undress before passing out on the couch.

“Dad…?” Marion hesitated.

“Hey, you’re still up? It’s late. You should be in bed.”

Marion did not back down. She stood in front of him, watching him, wondering what he did when he was out so late, why he came home drunk every night. He reeked of alcohol. She could smell it from across the room. He was no longer a man. He was an empty soul, a distant gaze, the lines in his face carved out by suffering and bad living, a complete waste of a life.

“I know, Dad. I was waiting up for you. I wanted to ask you something.”

Marion felt intimidated by this man who always had an imposing and powerful air about him.

“Yes? What is it? I’m tired. I’m going lie down.”

John turned his back on his daughter, as usual, as always, to go stretch out on the living room couch.

“Dad, I’d like to go to a party in town on Saturday night and…”

John stood up furiously, glaring threateningly into Marion’s eyes.

“No way! You hear me?”

“But Dad! I’m going to be eighteen years old. I’m no longer a child and I

need to experience all the things the world has to offer at my age.”

“Oh really? Going out to a party all dressed up like a whore, that’s what you need to experience?”

Helen had gotten up. Of course she hadn’t been able to sleep. Worried about her daughter, she stood quietly against the living room door.

“How can you call me a whore? You don’t even trust your own daughter, and you want to know why? Because you’ve done nothing but drink all these years, forgetting I even exist. You don’t know me at all!”

John’s temper snapped at the insult from Marion who was now sobbing. Lunging out, he slapped her so hard she fell to the floor.

Shocked, Marion did not get up, holding her head between her hands. She did not understand what was happening. Of all the things he had done in the past, he had never hit her before.

All of a sudden John’s eyes were no longer empty. Filled with hatred and rage, he raised a trembling hand above Marion, ready to hit again, if it had not been for Helen who stepped in to face him.

How dare she defy him? She who had never stood up to him. She who owed him everything. Consumed with rage, he forgot Marion. But this small insignificant woman, she was going to pay for all the years of torment and silence.

Helen saw in her husband’s eyes all the hatred he felt for her and all the bitterness. But no matter what, she had to protect her daughter. Marion would not pay for the mistakes of the past.

officialAuthor

Evelyne Sants

esantsPoetry was my first discovery and my first passion. Putting words together that, in theory, did not go together, giving them breath, a new life, was a revelation for me. Yet despite this, my imagination tormented my mind. The desire to go further, to be able to create characters, to give them a destiny, emotions, an imaginary reality, illuminated my literary path.

Thus, “Dark Secrets of the Past” was born, a book which made me tremble many times while writing.
Carried away by this momentum, I could not return to my poems. This experience gave me the certainty that what I truly want to do is write passionate stories in order to share them with readers.
I hope this book carries and transports you as far as it did me while I was writing it.

Contact Information
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/evelyne.sants/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/EvelyneSants7

Purchase Link: AMAZON

 

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Excerpt: UNLIKELY ALLIES

UnlikelyAllies

Title: Unlikely Allies
Author: C.C. Koen

Contemporary Romance
Date Published: June 13, 2015

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excerpt

How long had it been since she had sex? Four, five years?

A sudden hot flash hit her, so she unzipped the hoodie, tossing it on the grass. Her assigned task had been to screw in the bolts, not ogle Mr. Stone. As she attempted to concentrate on what needed to get done, she stretched up on her tiptoes to the end of the pole and secured the nut.

“What the hell, Maggie?”

Startled by the yelling, she dropped the wrench a centimeter from hitting her big toe. As she bent over to pick it up, Mr. Stone shouted and made her jump all over again. “What are you doing?” Before she stood all the way up, he shoved his T-shirt into her face. “Put this on.”

Instead of listening to his order, she swiped her hand across her damp brow, setting it on her temple and blocking the sun.

“Christ, cover yourself up.” He grabbed her other hand, clasped it around the material, and held it closed.

Following the direction of his eyes, she glanced down.

“Forget something, Mags.” Kat’s ribbing hadn’t helped the situation.

Well, since she didn’t know she’d be surrounded by men, she hadn’t given it a second thought when she opted out of wearing a bra. Sometimes on the weekends, she lounged around the house without one. On the small side, a thirty-six B, it wasn’t a big deal on those occasions. Now, with his eyes zeroed in on her rock-hard nipples, she determined that choice hadn’t been a wise decision. Yet, instead of doing what he said, she remained rooted in place, resisting his pull

as he tugged his shirt, and her hand up, trying to cover her. Her libido kicked up to full blast and desire shoved her toward him—to tease, play a little.

“Dammit, Maggie, take this. Put me out of my misery.” His grumbled plea should have been undecipherable since he’d spoken it so low. The huskiness in his voice licked along her spine, and tingles followed as though his lips brushed along her skin from waist to neck.

She loosened her hold, and his hand rose, brushing a knuckle across her nipple, the exact spot he wanted to shield.

Her legs turned to Jell-O. The mushy mass below her hips wouldn’t hold her up any longer. She swayed into him, grabbing hold of his waistband. Their chests beat against each other—his bare, hers begging to be, causing her nipples to harden even more. The coarse hair on his heated thighs scrubbed against her shaved, smooth ones. Her gaze kept wandering from his eyes to his tongue sliding over his bottom lip, moistening the ridges to a glistening, delectable, nibble-him morsel.

She wanted to touch him. No, she needed to. Unable to stop herself, she swept her thumb over his damp belly button, grit and sweat coating the pad of her finger. Each of their bodies called out suck me, go ahead and taste.

“Step back, Maggie. Get away from me, right now,” he groused, his lips closing in, a breath apart from hers. At least a half foot taller, his height difference didn’t matter. He sucked her in with his beautiful eyes that had so many variations of brown, green, and blue in them, she could’ve been gazing in a kaleidoscope. “Last chance.” The warning came out as a soft growl, his lips slicking against hers as he attempted to scare her away.

Virtual Tour + Excerpt: Love at First Flight

love at first flightLove At First Flight
by Tess Woods

ebook provided by Netgalley

What would you risk to be with the love of your life? A family is threatened by an irresistible attraction in this compelling debut that will appeal to fans of Liane Moriarty and Anita Shreve.
Looking back on it now, I can see it was instant. the second we locked eyes. Boom. Just like that. the me I had spent a lifetime perfecting began its disintegration from that moment. And despite the carnage it brought to all our lives, I still don’t regret it.
What would you risk to be with the love of your life? And what if your soul mate is the one who will destroy you?
Mel is living the dream. She’s a successful GP, married to a charming anaesthetist and raising a beautiful family in their plush home in Perth. But when she boards a flight to Melbourne, she meets Matt and her picture perfect Stepford life unravels as she falls in love for the first time ever.
What begins as a flirty conversation between strangers quickly develops into a hot and obsessive affair with disastrous consequences neither Mel nor Matt could have ever seen coming. Mel’s dream life turns into her worst nightmare.
Love at First Flight will take everything you believe about what true love is and spin it on its head.

excerpt2
‘Alright, love, have a good night.’

‘You too, hey? Be safe. Don’t talk to strangers. See you tomorrow. Love you.’

His voice was warm. No suspicion there whatsoever. Of course there wasn’t, Adam trusted me. I’d never given him reason to be suspicious before.

‘Love you too, Adam. See you tomorrow, darling,’ I croaked.

I dropped the phone into my bag and walked back into the bathroom, with a sudden sharp headache behind my left eye.

‘How’s Hercules?’ Sarah looked up from painting her toenails.

‘He’s fine,’ I said flatly. ‘He says hi. He’s having an early night.’

‘God bless him, like he needs the beauty sleep,’ she laughed.

I regarded myself coolly in the bathroom mirror. ‘You are a stupid, stupid woman,’ I hissed at the reflection.

I vigorously shook Matt from my head, wiped off the red lipstick, replaced it with a clear gloss, and sent a mental kiss to my unsuspecting husband who was missing me back at home.

No more nonsense.

Finished.

tesswoods

Book Tour + Excerpt: Forgive Me

 

 

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Forgive Me Cover1Forgive Me
Holton Series # 4
by B L Blair

Contemporary Romance
Date Published: May 12, 2015

Leaving Emily was Mitch’s greatest mistake. Can she forgive him?

Growing up, Mitch Carson had always dreamed of leaving Holton, Texas, traveling the world, and writing life altering stories. As an investigative journalist, he made those dreams come true, but he left behind the only woman he ever loved. That was his greatest mistake. Mitch has returned home to see if she can forgive him for leaving her when she needed him the most.
In high school, Emily Fairview had fallen deeply, madly, and completely in love with Mitch. The two of them planned a life together far away from Holton, but when Emily’s family needed her, she chose to stay. Mitch chose to leave. Fifteen years later Mitch is back and wants a second chance, but Emily doesn’t know if she can forgive him.
Return to Holton, Texas one last time to see if Mitch can get Emily to forgive him. Forgive Me is the fourth and final book in the Holton Series but may be read as a standalone novel.

 

excerpt2“Your turn to drive.” He reached for her hand and pulled her from the car.
“But I don’t have my license with me or insurance or anything.”
“So we won’t get stopped.” He walked her around to the driver’s side and waited as she got in. He returned to the car and helped her set the seat and mirrors. “The traffic’s light, and the freeway is smooth.”
Emily stared at him a minute. Then she nodded, started the car, and pulled out into the road. She drove cautiously at first, keeping well below the speed limit, and staying on the right side of the road. She didn’t pass anyone, and for a while, Mitch thought it was going to stay that way. And then, a large eighteen-wheeler drove around them. He saw her shoulders stiffen. She glanced at him, and he gave her an encouraging smile.
She made a face, pulled the car into the left lane, and hit the accelerator. Soon they were flying down the highway. Emily threw her head back and laughed. Mitch had never seen her look more beautiful.

TheAuthorV

Author PicB. L. Blair writes simple and sweet romance and mystery/romance stories. Like most authors, she has been writing most of her life and has dozens of books started. She just needs the time to finish them.
She is the author of the Holton Romance Series and the Leah Norwood Mysteries. She enjoys reading books, writing books, and traveling wherever and as often as time and money allows. She is currently working on her latest book set in Texas, where she lives with her family.

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