Image Slider

BLOG TOUR ✬ JD HAWKINS ✬ UNPROFESSIONAL

| On
Thursday, March 23, 2017
 

Unprofessional 


by JD Hawkins



Release Date: March 22nd

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Designer: Letitia Hasser from RBA Designs

Model: Christian Hogue

,


 

What happens when the internet's favorite playboy falls in love?
I have the best job in the world. Date beautiful women and write about it.
But I want to take it to the next level: instead of writing about my experiences make it into an online reality show.
But here is the catch. My boss wants me to share the show with a woman co-host. And he wants that woman to be my best friend and co-worker, Margo.
I’ll date beautiful women and she’ll date hot men. Sounds fair enough.
So now I have to watch her fake date hot men. I used to love going home with a different woman every night, but suddenly this isn’t as fun. Seeing Margo with anyone else is driving me crazy.
And the more time I spend with her working on the show, the less I want to keep our relationship in the friends’ zone. And the harder it is to stop myself from imagining her bent over the copier.
Things are about to get unprofessional.


READ TODAY!

(Free in Kindle Unlimited)

Amazon USAmazon UK




   


 

   


 “Thank god you live on the ground floor,” I say, as I rummage for her keys in her bag with one hand while keeping her from falling with the other. It’s not that I haven’t been to Margo’s place before, but when we hang out it’s usually at work functions or the occasional bar, and at the moment I can’t shake the feeling that I’m intruding a little.
“You know, you’re really fucking hot,” she slurs, giggling. My cock stirs at the brush of her lips so close to my neck, her warm breath against my skin. I have to shake it off.
“And you’re really fucking drunk,” I reply with a forced laugh, as the key finally catches and I kick the door open.
“No…I mean it,” she says as I step into her apartment, still holding her in my arms. “You’re like…the most beautiful man.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” I say, as I open a few wrong doors (closet, bathroom) until I find her bedroom. I walk in and lay her down on the bed, then pull away, setting her bag on the night table. “You should probably just rest a bit, let it pass.” I unlace her boots and ease them off gently, setting them on the floor before straightening up to go. This feels familiar, although I haven’t carried a too-drunk Margo home from a party and put her to bed since our undergrad years. “You need anything? Water, or—”
“Yeah.” Margo smiles.
“What?”
Instead of answering, she mischievously beckons me closer. I look at her, dress rolling up around her thighs, twisting her body up in the sheets, my imagination starting to whirl a little.
“Come here!” she yelps impatiently.
This could mean trouble—the problem is, I like trouble. I groan and go nearer to the bed.
“Closer,” she giggles, and I’m taken with the smile, the way she grinds into the bed…
“What?”
Her hand pulls on my shirt, her smile goes and instead her mouth is open now, weakened like she’s preparing to kiss me. I could so easily fall into her here, so easily bring my mouth onto hers, put my own hands under her clothes. I can almost taste her, appetite stirring…
Except being a real man doesn’t just mean knowing when to make a move, it also means knowing when you shouldn’t.
“Nice try,” I say, pulling back.
Margo laughs and pounds her fists onto the bed with disappointment.
“But I need to see what’s under your shirt. You still got those Grand Canyon abs, I bet.”
“Ok. That’s my cue to go,” I say, half-out the door. “See you tomorrow.”
“No! Come on! Please! I remember the view was fucking amazing. Just a little peek. A tiny little peek for old time’s sake. Come on, Owen! Don’t be an asshole. You know you want to show it off.”
I look back at her, hand on the doorknob, and find myself laughing.
“Happy now?” I say, pulling up my shirt a little way.
Margo screams and falls back onto her pillows laughing.
“I knew it! Just as perfect as that night you got locked out of the girl’s dorm,” she says, as I close the door and leave.
When I get back to my car, I’m still smiling.




 





 



JD Hawkins writes erotic romance with modern-classic alpha males and strong, independant women. He currently lives with his wife in Los Angeles, CA. He loves to travel and has lived in many places, including New York City, India and Thailand. When he isn't writing, JD enjoys surfing, training in Mixed Martial Arts, reading and taking naps. He's always loved making up stories, especially ones inspired by real life.

 


Amazon
Twitter
     

COVER REVEAL ✬ EDEN BUTLER ✬ INFINITE US

| On
Thursday, March 23, 2017


Infinite Us

by

Eden Butler



Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 23, 2017











Love is timeless…
Nash Nation loves zeroes and ones, over-sized monitors and late office hours. He’s too busy taking over the world to make time for relationships—that is, until his new neighbor Willow O’Bryant barges into his life, and now Nash can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the first time she’s interrupted his world.
Then, the dreams start. And in the dreams—memories.
Memories of a girl named Sookie who couldn’t count on love or friendship, never mind forever. Memories of a library and a boy called Isaac and secrets made in private that destroyed his world.
The memories seem real, but who do they belong to?
When Nash and Willow discover the truth, life as they know it unravels.
The bridge between this life and the next is shored up by blood and bone and memory. Sometimes, that bridge leads to the place we’ve always wanted to be.









It was the dream. The waking dream again.
There was something tied up in that dream—a memory, the life I knew but had never lived. That was the only explanation.
The dream crawled inside my skull like a centipede. It stayed there, burrowed itself so deep inside my brain that imagination got squashed. Nothing was fantasy anymore. What had been figments of my imagination had grown to something real, something I couldn’t beat away. Something I couldn’t ignore.
It stayed with me during the investors’ meeting, as Duncan talked about projections and media outreach. He spoke and I watched his face, focused like I understood the meaning behind the noise, the unrecognizable words his mouth made. I knew he was expecting me to weigh in with some technical spin, but it was all I could do to keep from completely drifting away.
Lucky for me, he liked the sound of his own voice. Even Duncan and his slick CEO arrogance didn’t distract me from the dream. The sound of his pitch, that salesman shine he thought might impress the investors didn’t do a damn thing to erase what I’d felt. What I’d seen. What I remembered.
The dream stayed even as his nagging turned into a whining drone that made my teeth ache.
“What the fuck was that? You just tuned out. You weren’t engaged at all.”
No. I hadn’t been. Still wasn’t as I fed him some bullshit about a migraine.
“I’ll catch you later, man. I gotta jet.”
He didn’t buy my excuse. Duncan’s eyes narrowed and I swear I felt his stare hot on my neck as I moved out of his office and stood waiting at the elevator. Wasn’t much I could hide from him through that glass wall so I kept my head down, wondering how I’d gotten messed up with that asshole in the first place.
Ah. Right. I had a program and no cash. Duncan had deep pockets and was looking for someone’s coattails to ride. One plus one is always two.
Didn’t much care if he bought the migraine excuse. I felt something right at the base of my skull. A pressure, a dull ache, but I wasn’t sick. I was high.
My brain went into autopilot as I left Manhattan, grabbing the A train to get me to downtown Brooklyn. And the whole way home, with the rocking of the train, the funky smell of the city getting fainter with every stop, and the even worse body odor of all the compressed bodies, the ache in my head grew the closer we came to my stop, that weird memory nagging at me.
That shit wouldn’t let me be.
Over and over in my head, as I huddled tight behind my jacket in the still chilly weather, the memory came clear as a raindrop.
Me and her. Me and the woman I didn’t know. Me as a man I’d never been.
The smell of roses. The thick hint of dust and coffee.
The feel of worn book bindings and the scrap of metal chairs on wood floors.
The taste of honey on my tongue.
The woman wrapped around me, holding tight, like I was her lifeline. Her red hair between my fingers, her nails pulling at my collar. Feeling needed. Feeling free.
A gust of wind blew off my hood, had my eyes watering as I jogged the rest of the way toward my building, barely acknowledging the people grouped around the front entrance. But then the sound of kids screeching cut into my brain, and I finally noticed that Old Man Walker was handing out Jolly Ranchers from the top step; for his grandkids and the others bouncing around, he couldn't get the wrapped candy out of his pockets fast enough.
In that small chaos, compounded by an arguing couple from 3C coming out of the elevator, brushing past the cluster of kids in their red and green puffy coats and their sniffling noses, heels clicking on the tile floor and crackling over the candy wrappers littering the hall, I forgot about the dream. If only for a second.
Until I saw Willow at the mailboxes.
She didn’t look much like the woman in my dream. Her hair was not red, but light brown. The redhead’s had been thick and bone straight. Willow’s was wild, all over the place, as though she could never get it under control.
The woman in my dream had been thin with barely a hint of curve to her shape. Elegant, graceful like a ballerina. Willow was all dips and bends, luscious, her legs strong with well-defined muscle, and a wide, wondrous ass.
Suddenly the rest of the world receded and there was nothing but the movement of Willow’s hair as she dug the mail from her box, the rhythm of her limbs as she swatted at that thick mass of hair, the swoop of her jacket hem against all those round, perfect curves as she turned, her attention on the envelopes in her hand.
The smell of her skin, the jasmine in her hair, seemed to billow around me as I stood motionless in the lobby. She was everywhere, familiar and yet unknown. A stranger/not stranger I had held at arm’s length, but still far more real than my dream, than the memory it was trying to evoke.
Willow stopped short as she noticed me, pausing with the mail held against her chest, a frown appearing on her face. I knew that expression from the last time I saw her, when I lied and told her I didn’t want her, when I had spoken promises that even then I knew I’d never keep.
“Nash.” There was a bite in her voice, the clip of my name, as if she was trying to sound disdainful, yet her voice still held an undertone of something that, if it had a flavor, would have tasted like honey. 
And then the dream, that sweet, stinging memory crashed over me. Déjà vu and fantasy and shit I did not understand hit me like a fever, and I was lost. The redhead kissed my neck. The hint of her soft, liquid tongue against my skin, tugging on my ear, wanting me with a fierceness no one ever had before, overwhelmed me, and I had to close my eyes to keep from being dragged under.
“Nash?” Willow’s voice reeled me back in, and I opened my eyes to see her sweet, concerned expression and the curve of her mouth, the fullness of her bottom lip.
Then Willow... she took the back of her hair in one hand, twisting it into a knot—the smallest gesture that I’d seen her do a dozen times—and suddenly I realized: the woman in my dream had done the same thing. The same motion, the same movement. Just like Willow.
A sharp intake of breath—that was me. Willow had backed up a half step, her face confused, conflicted, and despite what I’d said before, I reached out and slid my fingers tentatively to touch her face, guiding her chin up so I could look into her eyes.
“Nash…”
She made the smallest noise, something that sounded like moan and laugh at the same time. It transformed, deepened to a growl when I kissed her. Yet even as my mouth found hers, as my tongue slid along her lip, begging an invitation, one thought consumed me, something I didn’t believe was left over from my dream. One thought that made me brave, made me hungry: this woman belongs to me.





Eden Butler is an editor and writer of Mystery, Suspense and Contemporary Romance novels and the nine-times great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and rum. 

When she’s not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrowesque ancestor, Eden patiently waits for her Hogwarts letter, edits, reads and spends way too much time watching rugby, Doctor Who and New Orleans Saints football. 
She is currently living under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana. 
Please send help.

















BLOG TOUR ✬ KATE STEWART ✬ THE BRAVE LINE

| On
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
now live cover pic


THE BRAVE LINE

by

 Kate Stewart



Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 17







Title: The Brave Line
Author: Kate Stewart
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 17






She is a five foot seven long list of things he can’t have.

He is a determined cop, desperate to keep his heart sealed behind his badge.

Michelle is a survivor. With a fresh perspective on life, she trades her tragic past in California for the coastal waters of Charleston. Fueled by a new career as a dispatcher, she’s determined not to let her scars weigh her down. She apologizes for nothing, especially her insatiable need for a certain police officer.

Rowdy is a newly minted sergeant dedicated to his job, but the life of a Charleston police officer has never been more dangerous. With his need to take order of a city spiraling out of control, the last thing he wants is an entanglement with a mouthy dispatcher. But, there’s just one problem. He can’t get enough of her.

As the heat rises between the unlikely pair, so does the tension.

Three months of summer was all it took to shake their foundations, rattle their walls, and bring them crashing down.

It was lust.

It was love.

It was real.

And it would have been perfect . . . if it wasn't already over.

Note to reader: This book has several elements and explores topics that some may consider triggers. For mature audiences only. Explicit sex, violence and language.



BL teaser 4



BL teaser 2 now



BL teaser 1 now




BL 0days


AMAZON ✬ B&N ✬ KOBO






Kate



A native of Dallas, Kate Stewart now resides in beautiful Charleston, S.C. She lives with her husband of 10 years, Nick, and her naughty beagle, Sadie. Kate moved to Charleston three weeks after her first visit, dropping her career of 8 years, and declaring the city her creative muse. Since the move in 2010, Kate has written and published several novels including Room 212, Never Me, Loving the White Liar, The Reluctant Romantics Series (The Fall, The Heart, The Mind) and The Balls in Play series (Anything but Minor and Major Love.)

Kate writes messy, sexy, angst filled romance books with ‘hard to get’ happy endings because it’s what she loves as a reader. She has a scary addiction to chocolate milk and a deep love for rap music specifically the genius known as Marshall Mathers.

In addition to her addiction to romance, Kate also lets her alter ego take over on occasion and writes erotic suspense under the pen Angelica Chase.

Check out Kate’s works as Angelica



Newsletter ✬ Website ✬ Facebook ✬ Twitter



BL teaser 5 now







5 SERGEANT SEXY STARS


THE BRAVE LINE


by

Kate Stewart





“The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just have to find the ones worth suffering for."
 Bob Marley


PLOT INTRO


It is one of those bad summers that seems to bring out the dirt. Charleston Police have their hands full to keep the city's crime under control. It is a thankless job and cop Randall Owen Day, or how his friends call him, Rowdy, has the night shift. What keeps him going on a daily basis are his best friend, his dispatchers and guilt.

"Are you going to worry about me tonight?"

Michelle has been carrying a torch for Rowdy for two years. The guy is so hard to crack she has almost given up on him when she is invited to a bachelor party. Michelle is having a dry spell so she is more than ready for a tumble between the sheets.



Rowdy feels Michelle's pull, and he isn't blind to her beauty but not only does he not mix job and pleasure he also isn't boyfriend material and that's what she deserves.

Michelle was a 5'7'' list of things I couldn't have. 

However, when she offers a night without strings he can't resist any longer. In no uncertain times he tells her that this will be a one time thing, something he doesn't intend to repeat. Unfortunately your heart doesn't always listen to your logic and Sergeant Day keeps indulging in the sexy fruit that was actually off limits.

And looking at Michelle caused me to want and that would lead to need. 



Michelle is one of those heroines I won't forget. She is beyond strong and resilient, a survivor with enough steel to overcome life's deepest and darkest places. Her past that had her fleeing her home in California has shaped her. But she also has a softness about her, a tenderness and kindness that makes you fall in love with her. Always a comeback and the F-word on her lips she is smart and funny. Her beauty isn't only a facade, she carries a light that made me root for her throughout the story.

Rowdy is what you expect from a hot cop - pure male, bossy, super alpha and happily single. He has grace and despite his alpha-hole ways an integrity about him. Rowdy is no stranger to loss so his motifs for keeping things impersonal with women are comprehensible. From the beginning to the point when he cracks it was tangible how he kept Michelle at arm's length. The whole time I was wondering what it would take for him to move past his own hang-ups. And when the tables turned it was beautiful to see him grovel. And just as gratifying to watch Michelle putting herself first.

"One day you'll forgive me. One day. I'll wait for that day. Because I waited for you so long that I forgot what I was waiting for."

Rowdy's and Michelle's chemistry is AH-mazing. They are beyond combustible.




We were arms, legs, hips and sensation. He burned through me, yet I was insatiable for him. I would never get enough. 


This story was an emotional roller coaster and I am a fiend for those. I was captivated and it had me engaged in the character's journey from beginning to the end. There is a lot of snark and some angst. The back stories of both characters are revealed later on and my heart broke for both Michelle and Rowdy. The only thing I would have liked to see more of is the epilogue - while we do get one I'd have loved to see them further in the future. However, that's probably just me being addicted to these two. At any rate it gets the #allthefeels #allthestars tags.

Kate Stewart rocked my world with this story. I have had some of her books on my Kindle forever and never got around reading them. Time to lay low on the ARCs and focus on my TBR, right? I love this author's writing style, it is effortless, witty, with small doses of somberness that fit the atmosphere. I have found a new author to obsess about.