Virtual Tour – Forbidden Kisses by Annie Rains

Forbidden kissesForbidden Kisses Blushing Bay #1

By: Annie Rains

Releasing April 11, 2017 Loveswept

Blurb

For years, Jack Sawyer’s family has been running their upscale seafood business like a finely tuned machine. But every machine breaks down eventually, and suddenly Jack needs a new office manager, a new kayak launch, and a new lease on life. Then Grace Donner shows up again. She’s smart, motivated, and perfect for the manager position, but if she’s anything like her mom, she can’t be trusted. And Jack has never been able to trust himself around Grace.

Grace hasn’t seen her former stepbrothers since their parents’ messy divorce, but she never forgot them—especially Jack. She misses being part of the big rambunctious Sawyer clan, and if there’s an opportunity to set things right, she means to do it. But she can’t ignore Jack’s irresistibly kissable lips, or the searing way he looks at her when he thinks she’s not looking. Their chemistry is more explosive than ever. And if the Sawyers can forgive and forget, anything is possible.

Link to Follow Tour: http://tastybooktours.com/tours-master/2017/1/18/forbidden-kisses-annie-rains

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32717694-forbidden-kisses Goodreads Series Link https://www.goodreads.com/series/196464-blushing-bay

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TastyToursExcerpt

 

Jack reached for a folded blanket beside the cooler and laid it down on the open floor of the boat. “I know it’s not the most comfortable surface for lying back, but I thought we could look at the stars. It’s a favorite pastime of fishermen, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

He reached for her hand to help her lower to the floor. She held on to his tightly, surprised at how off balanced she felt. Then they lay back together, close enough that they touched. The soft hair on Jack’s arm resting against hers aroused her senses.

Were they really just going to look at the stars?

Yes, it was all very romantic, but so was doing other things under the stars. Things she’d been thinking about since stepping aboard.

Jack pointed up at the sky and started to speak. Grace was tired of talking, though. Tired of resisting what she wanted, and right now all she wanted was Jack.

Unable to help herself, uninhibited by the wine and the romantic environment, she rolled on top of him and crushed her mouth over his.

Judging by the stiff protrusion that met her inner thigh, he wanted her just as much.

“Well, hello there,” he said, smiling against her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she said, even though she didn’t mean it.

His hand slid down her back and settled on her bottom, pulling her snug against him. “I’m not. I’d decided tonight was for romance only, but I can’t think of anything more romantic than making love to you on this boat.”

White-hot heat tore through her. She was so hot that maybe it was time to start stripping.

As if reading her mind, Jack tugged the hem of her shirt up on her back and then over her head. The rest of her clothes fell away in the wake of his needy hands until she was tipsy and naked on the floor of his pontoon boat—on a boat ride to nowhere in particular, except his body was promising to shoot her to the low-hanging full moon.

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Author Info

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Annie Rains is a USA Today bestselling author who writes small-town love stories set in fictional towns on the coast of North Carolina. Raised in one of America’s largest military communities, Annie often features heroes who fight for their countries, while also fighting for a place to call home and a good woman to love. When Annie isn’t writing, she’s spending time with her husband and three children, or reading a book by one of her favorite authors.

 

Author Links:   WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS

 

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Blog Tour – The Player by K. Bromberg

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00074]Baseball has never been sexier in an all-new novel by New York Times Bestselling Author, K. Bromberg.

Easton Wylder is baseball royalty. The game is his life. His passion. His everything.

So, when an injury threatens to end Easton’s season early, the team calls in renowned physical therapist, Doc Dalton, to oversee his recovery. Except it’s not Doc who greets Easton for his first session, but rather, his daughter, Scout. She may be feisty, athletic, defiant, and gorgeous, but Easton is left questioning whether she has what it takes to help him.

Scout Dalton’s out to prove a female can handle the pressure of running the physical therapy regimen of an MLB club. And that proof comes in the form of getting phenom Easton Wylder back on the field. But getting him healthy means being hands-on.

And with a man as irresistible as Easton, being hands-on can only lead to one thing, trouble. Because the more she touches him, the more she wants him, and she can’t want him. Not when it’s her job to maintain the club’s best interest, in regards to whether he’s ready to play.

But when sparks fly and fine lines are crossed, can they withstand the heat, or is one of them bound to get burned?

 

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HeadShot ColorNew York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.

Since publishing her first book in 2013, K. has sold over one million copies of her books and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times.

In April, she’ll release The Player, the first in a two-book sports romance series (The Catch, book 2, will be released late June), with many more already outlined and ready to be written.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales HERE

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon Author | Driven Group

Virtual Tour – A Charmed Little Lie by Sharla Lovelace

Spinning a story of a joyous marriage to make a dying woman happy is forgivable, isn’t it?
A CHARMED LITTLE LIE
Charmed in Texas #1
Sharla Lovelace
Releasing April 18th, 2017
Lyrical Shine

 

Lanie Barrett didn’t mean to lie. Spinning a story of a joyous marriage to make a
dying woman happy is forgivable, isn’t it? Lanie thinks so, especially since her beloved Aunt Ruby would have been heartbroken to know the truth of her niece’s sadly loveless, short-of-sparkling existence. Trouble is, according to the will, Ruby didn’t quite buy Lanie’s tale. And to inherit the only house Lanie ever really considered a home, she’ll have to bring her “husband” back to Charmed, Texas for three whole months—or watch Aunt Ruby’s cozy nest go to her weasel cousin, who will sell it to a condo developer.
Nick McKane is out of work, out of luck, and the spitting image of the man Lanie described. He needs money for his daughter’s art school tuition, and Lanie needs a convenient spouse. It’s a match made . . . well, not quite in heaven, but for a
temporary arrangement, it couldn’t be better. Except the longer Lanie and Nick
spend as husband and wife, the more the connection between them begins to seem
real. Maybe this modern fairy tale really could come true . . .
 
A Charmed Little Lie Teaser 1A Charmed Little Lie Teaser 2 revised.jpgA Charmed Little Lie Teaser 3A Charmed Little Lie Teaser 4

 

Sharla Lovelace is the bestselling, award-winning author of sexy small-town love stories. Being a Texas girl through and through, she’s proud to say she lives in Southeast Texas with her retired husband, a tricked-out golf cart, and two crazy dogs. She is the author of five stand-alone novels including the bestselling Don’t Let Go, the exciting Heart Of The Storm series, and the fun and sexy new Charmed in Texas series.

For more about Sharla’s books, visit http://www.sharlalovelace.com, and keep up with all her new book releases easily by subscribing to her newsletter. She loves keeping up with her readers, and you can connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

 

 

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Spotlight Post – By Her Touch by Adriana Anders

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Blurb:

Undercover cop Clay Navarro left the Sultans biker gang a changed man. Its ringleaders may be awaiting trial, but he wears the memory of every brutal act he was forced to commit tattooed across his skin. He doesn’t have space in his messed-up life for anything gentle—not now, maybe not ever.

Dr. Georgette Hadley is drawn to the damaged stranger’s pain, intimidated but intrigued by the warmth that lies beneath Clay’s frightening exterior. But when the Sultans return looking for revenge, she finds herself drawn into the dirty underbelly of a life forged in violence…that not even her touch may be able to heal.

Excerpt:

This time, George was ready when he arrived. Sort of.

It had been a busy day spent trying to catch up on Friday’s missed appointments, which was good, since her mind had spent an uncomfortable amount of time going back to him.

All day, she’d fended off questions about the bruises and anticipated his arrival with the

most unwelcome combination of excitement and apprehension, building it up so that, by the time his form blocked out the low evening sunlight, she had decided more or less how to proceed. No casual talk and no mention of Saturday night, besides a well-deserved

thanks. Professional, strict.

That, of course, translated to stiff, which probably only made her seem nervous. A complete failure in bedside manner.

“Evening, Doc.”

George shivered. That voice. Rougher than she was used to, lower, without any hint of local Virginia twang.

“Mr. Blane.” He loitered in the doorway. “Come in, come in.” Great, now she sounded like a little old woman, enticing him with tea and cookies. Or something.

“How you feeling tonight, Doc?”

“Wonderful.”

“That’s quite a shiner you got there.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped, tired of explaining the thing all day and not wanting to relive it with him right now, either.

The man moved inside, limping—which reminded her that he’d run back to the motel the other night—and finally pulled off his glasses, baring sharp, assessing eyes beneath two bright red, puffy lids, greased up.

At least he followed directions.

He stepped forward, hand out, and George hesitated, thinking for a second that he might… What? Kiss her? Hug her? Lord, she was messed up.

“I owe you some money, Doc.”

“Oh. No. Thank you,” she said. “You saved me from…from a world of hurt. I can’t accept your money.”

“Look, Doc, I—”

“Mr. Blane. Please,” she said, her breathing loud in her ears.

His eyes flicked between hers, measuring, weighing, and finally, apparently, deciding she wasn’t bluffing.

He gave in, lowered his chin in a single quick nod, then asked, “Where d’you want me, Doc?”

“Come on back,” she said, trying so hard to sound like the doctor she was, suddenly wishing she hadn’t insisted on seeing him this late, all alone, with her staff long gone.

As she led him to the last exam room on the right, George pretended he was just another patient—an urticaria needing steroid cream, a full-body skin check, or a mole to biopsy.

When she turned back at the door, though, and caught him eyeing her bottom or her legs,

hidden though they were by her trousers, her body reacted in a way that showed it knew the difference between him and everyone else, even if her mind didn’t care to. Just that look, that slide of his eyes over layers of clothing, dragged her into a morass of sexuality that she’d managed for years to avoid.

His gaze went up to her face, and she saw his eyes change, watched their warm brown darken to black, and the muscle in his jaw tighten. “Didn’t realize they’d got your face so bad.”

“Oh,” she said, her hand flying back to the telltale bruise. “It really is fine. No big deal.”

“You call the cops after I left?”

“No. No, I didn’t.” And then, because she didn’t want to talk about it any longer, she said, “Your eyes look good.”

“You call this good?” He shook his head wryly.

“You’re one weird lady.”

“I know it hurts, but it’s doing what it should. Red, blistering. Now, let’s get your shirt off, Mr. Blane,” she said, dodging his gaze. And that sentence—her stupidly chosen words—heightened her body’s fall into unwanted sensuality.

Wonderful. Just great. After all her careful planning and preparation. Rather than look at him as he stripped, George busied herself prepping the already-prepped room, her mind hunting for words that didn’t contain subtext within subtext, with even more subtext

lurking beneath.

“Remembered the burning hair last time, Doc.”

Behind her came the sound of clothing being removed.

“So I shaved my chest.”

Oh, that did it. Her eyes, evil creatures, bypassed her brain’s directives entirely and slithered right to where her body wanted them—on that chest. Good Lord, that chest. She’d spent all weekend thinking about that chest.

Below his clavicles, he was so unfeasibly flat and broad, she’d need a half-dozen

hands to span it. And strong. Still lower, the muscles curved out, hard and male and

sexual in a way that pectorals shouldn’t be—they really shouldn’t. And then the thought of her bare hands, right there, touching his freshly shaven skin…

George swallowed audibly in the quiet room and reached for her gloves. A barrier.

“’S that okay? You hadn’t mentioned body hair last time, but I figured it’d make it easier.”

“Oh, yes, that’s wonderf—”

Another attempted swallow over dry, dry throat. “I mean, you did the right thing.

In fact, I should have told you.” Her throat clicked again, and before her tongue managed to talk her straight into some sort of absurd 1980s porn scenario, George threw the switches on the machine. It would drown her out.

And him, thank God.

By Her Touch Graphic

Adriana Anders has acted and sung, slung cocktails and corrected copy. She’s worked for start-ups, multinationals and small nonprofits, but it wasn’t until she returned to her first love—writing romance—that she finally felt like she’d come home. Today, she resides with her tall French husband, two small children and fat French cat in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, where she writes the dark, gritty, steamy love stories of her heart.

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2ogHdkD

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Spotlight Tour – Wild Ride by Julie Ann Walker

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The hero we’ve all been waiting for… 

Ethan “Ozzie” Sykes

Former Navy SEAL

Underground operator for Black Knights Inc., the covert government defense firm disguised as a custom motorcycle shop

In a black-on-black international mission that went seriously sideways, Ozzie was badly injured—now he’s stuck at BKI headquarters in Chicago, champing at the bit to get out into the field again. To his disgust, he’s tasked with distracting Chicago Tribune ace reporter Samantha Tate, who’s been trying to dig up the dirt on BKI for years. Turns out Samantha’s beauty, intelligence and sense of humor are a seriously big distraction, and Ozzie’s losing his desire to keep her at bay.

Ozzie’s tired of hiding, and Samantha may be the best—and worst—person to share his secrets with… 

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Wild Ride graphic...png

Excerpt:

Full situational awareness…

It was a phrase the Navy SEALs used to describe an operator’s ability to focus on a million things at once and quickly come to conclusions about who or what in his environment posed a potential problem. As far as Ozzie could figure, his environment posed three potential problems.

The first was Janie. She was gearing up to make another pass at him. He could see it in her come-and-get-me-big-boy stare. And what the hell was Gloria thinking? That he was some toy to be passed around? Sure, he deserved an ass-kicking for not immediately recognizing her. But in his defense, they’d only had sex once. And besides being a brunette back then, she’d also been about twenty pounds heavier. And just to be clear, she was the one who never called him back.

Pretty much the story of my life, he thought, quickly followed by, Damn you, self-pity!

His second problem was Samantha. Something was off with her. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but then he’d detected the edge in her voice, the slight trembling of her lips. Both subtle tells had increased exponentially after she read that text message. Not good. The woman was like one of those damned truffle pigs when it came to sniffing out trouble, and the thought of her pretty neck on someone’s chopping block had anger burning low in his belly and fear crawling up his spine like a poisonous spider.

And then there was problema número tres, otherwise known as the big, burly biker who had shouldered his way into the bar. He was wearing the colors of the Basilisk MC, one of Chicago’s true-blue motorcycle clubs, and the expression on his face said he hadn’t come in for a drink. He was searching for someone. His eyes were barely visible between his shaggy hairline and the dark beard that grew up over his cheeks, but they zeroed on Samantha’s back as she made her way down the long hall leading to the restrooms, making it seem that he’d found his quarry.

Ozzie’s heart rate spiked, the feeling as familiar as breathing. The blood rushing through the injured muscles of his thigh caused them to twitch, and the resulting pain was also now as familiar as breathing. He tried to take comfort in that. Pain meant life. He should be grateful to still be alive. He was grateful to still be alive. Even if it appeared that his life wasn’t going to be anything like what he had planned or hoped.

“Heads up,” he murmured casually.

“I see him.” Christian took a slow sip of his beer as they watched the biker skirt around tables until he stopped at the high-top closest to the mouth of the hallway.

“Hard to tell what he’s packing beneath his cut,” Ozzie observed. Cut was the term bikers used to describe the jackets that sported their colors and patches. Those colors and patches not only told the world which MC the rider was affiliated with, but also who the rider was within the MC and the various things the rider had done for the MC. According to this dude’s patches, he was the sergeant at arms, the enforcer for the Basilisks, and he’d killed for his club. More than once.

Well, piss, shit, and suck a potato dick.

“Judging by the size of that bulge,” Christian speculated, his accent thickened with adrenaline as he nonchalantly unhooked his heels from the brass footrail and prepared to make a move, “I should think it’s either a small sidearm or a bloody big knife.”

“Trouble brewing?” Delilah asked beneath her breath, coming over to them and pretending to wipe down the bar. “First time I’ve ever had a Basilisk in my place.”

“You still got that sawed-off back there?” Ozzie asked. One of the many things they all appreciated about Delilah was the shotgun with the aftermarket shortened barrel she was known to keep behind the bar.

A faint smile curved her lips. “Wouldn’t leave home without it.”

“Good,” he told her. “If shit goes sideways, I want you to grab that scatter gun and duck down behind the bar.”

“But—” she started, only to have Christian cut her off.

“Oy. Shut your gobs. Here comes Samantha.” When Christian got really worked up, a little cockney slipped into his highbrow London speech.

But Samantha wasn’t coming. Oh, no. She was running. Running out the door leading to the alley like the place was burning down behind her.

Author Information: 

Author - photo - hat2

Julie Ann Walker is the USA Today and New York Times Bestselling Author of the Black Knights Inc. romantic suspense series. She is prone to spouting movie quotes and song lyrics. She’ll never say no to sharing a glass of wine or going for a long walk. She prefers impromptu travel over the scheduled kind, and she takes her coffee with milk. You can find her on her bicycle along the lake shore in Chicago or blasting away at her keyboard, trying to wrangle her capricious imagination into submission. For more information, please visit www.julieannwalker.com or follow her on Facebook www.facebook.com/jawalkerauthor and/or Twitter @JAWalkerAuthor.

Blog Tour – Fighting Attraction by Sarah Castille

FIGHTING ATTRACTION by SARAH CASTILLE

CVR Fighting Attraction

FIGHTING ATTRACTION (REDEMPTION #4)

By Sarah Castille

Contemporary Erotic Romance

Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca

Published 04/04/17

BOOK DESCRIPTION: 

My sweet, sexy Penny has a dark side. Just like me.

I will have her. And then I will lose her, and suffer a lifetime of regret.

Rampage. Everyone loves him. He is Redemption’s top heavyweight fighter and the biggest gossip in the gym. But he isn’t the teddy bear everyone thinks he is. He’s hiding a dark secret-and he hates himself for it.

Twice a week, Rampage transforms into Master Jack, a notorious dom only the most hard-core submissives will play with. How can he-a Southern gentleman, bred to respect and protect women-want to dominate them?

But Penny Worthington wants him. Beneath her pearls, kitten heels, and prim British exterior beats a tortured heart…Master Jack is the only one who can set her free.

PRE-ORDER LINKS:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2jvBTuD

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2jkEDZA

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iTunes: http://apple.co/2iKwXkv

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Redemption Series

Against the Ropes

In Your Corner

Full Contact

Fighting Attraction 

PRAISE for Sarah Castille’s Redemption series:

“Powerful. Gritty. And sexy beyond belief. Sarah is a true master!”-Opal Carew, New York Times bestselling author of His to Claim 

“Hilarious, hot and occasionally heartbreaking. I loved it! ” – Maryse’s Book Blog on Against the Ropes

“Castille’s follow-up to the excellent Against the Ropes doesn’t pull its punches.” – Publishers Weekly, starred review for In Your Corner 

“Emotionally charged, amazingly sexy, and flat out fantastic.”-Fresh Fiction on Full Contact 

What is Penny’s favorite music? Death Metal

EXCERPT: 

Jack “Rampage” Caldwell is the first MMA fighter I created for the Redemption series, and even when I first brought this Southern gentleman to life, I knew he had a secret. But Penny has a dark secret, too. After Jack discovers what she hides from the world, he makes her promise to come to him if she needs him. But trust doesn’t come easily for Penny. She breaks her promise, never expecting that Jack will find out. But, of course, he does…and crossing a sadist is never a good idea! 

“I’ll call you back. Jack is here.”

Cora sucks in a sharp breath. “I’ll see you at class tonight. I can hardly wait to hear all about it.”

I end the call and swallow past the lump in my throat. It’s only been three days, and yet it feels like I haven’t seen Jack in forever. He’s wearing a white T-shirt that clings to his taut, muscle-ridged abdomen, and worn jeans that ride low on his narrow hips.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to keep my gaze above his belt.

He pins me with a direct stare, his eyes fierce and hard. I feel like he’s trying to see into my soul, but my heart is pounding so hard I’m not sure enough oxygen is getting to my brain to make any sense of what’s going on.

“Jack?”

His gaze rakes over my body, lingering on my thighs as if he can see beneath my skirt. He tenses, and his eyes narrow. If I didn’t know X-ray vision was impossible, I would swear he knows I broke my promise.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.” My pulse kicks up a notch. “Everyone’s out for the rest of the afternoon.”

He takes a step toward me, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

“Lock the door.”

A thrill of fear shoots through me, and sweat beads on my forehead. What if he knows? Or suspects? What will he do?

“Now.” His deep, commanding Dom voice ripples through me, fanning the flames of my desire. Do I trust Jack enough to lock myself in the office with him, especially when I know what is coming? Do I trust myself?

I brush past him and lock the front door.

“Your office,” he snaps after I return.

I jump at his sharp tone and scramble out of his way as he brushes past me and through my office door, a lithe and powerful animal herding its prey.

“What’s going on?”

“Stand in front of the desk.” He gestures to the big oak desk Amanda and I refinished when we first moved into the building.

Puzzled, I do as he asks, my breath catching in my throat when he closes and locks the door behind him.

“Jack?”

He gives me his back as he draws the curtains at the side of my office. “Don’t move.”

A sting of disappointment hits me in the chest. Has he come to reject me all over again? Does he want to make sure I understand there is nothing between us? It shouldn’t bother me because I got the message the other night. I’m nothing. Nothing special. Nothing extraordinary. Not worth his time, especially since he’s on the cusp of fame. I’m just his pal. Plain old quirky Pen. But he doesn’t have to be so cold.

Worthless, no-good piece of shit. 

No. No. No. My fingers tighten on the lip of the desk. I haven’t even started to heal from last night. I don’t need the past intruding on the present.

Jack leans against the door across from me, thick arms folded over his massive chest.

“Lift your skirt.”

Shock steals my breath away, and all I can do is stare.

“What?”

“You heard me. Lift your skirt. Now.”

Bang. Bang. Bang. My heart thuds frantically against my ribs. Adrenaline pounds through my veins, and I feel a rush of heat between my legs. He knows. I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice…

“Why?” I whisper, stalling. And why is this turning me on?

“You know why,” he snaps. “You didn’t keep your promise.”

I smooth my hands over my cream skirt, silky underneath with a cotton macramé overlay, pressing it tight against my thighs. “It doesn’t matter if I kept it or not. We’re not in the club. There’s nothing between us. You made that clear the other night.”

“I fucked up the other night.” He shifts his stance. “I’m not good for you, Pen. You need to be with someone normal. A nice guy who’s going to treat you right and doesn’t want to hurt you.”

My hand fists on my thigh. “I don’t like nice guys. They don’t understand me. They’re too gentle. My life is about pain. Emotional and physical pain. It’s what I know, what I understand, what I need.”

“So you hurt yourself?”

“I didn’t—”

He cuts me off with a scowl. “Don’t lie to me.” He pauses, and his voice takes on a deeper, cutting edge. “Show me.”

My mouth goes dry at his abrupt command, and I fiddle with the edge of my skirt, at once indignant that he would try to boss me around and aroused that he did.

“What if I did?” I say defiantly. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

His corded throat tightens when he swallows, and he fixes me with a level stare. “I’ll give you what you need.”

All the air leaves my lungs in a rush, and I feel a disconcerting wetness between my thighs. “You wouldn’t dare. I’m at work.”

“Try me.”

Electricity sparks in the air between us, and a curious mix of fear and arousal courses through my veins. Stiffening my spine, I curl my fingers under the edge of my skirt and draw it slowly, painfully slowly up my thighs. Jack stills. His eyes flick down and then back up again. He licks his lips, and his eyes darken.

I have awakened the beast.

Fighting Attraction graphic

Fighting Attraction is the fourth book in a full-length, standalone, award-winning series by New York Times bestselling author, Sarah Castille, featuring deliciously sexy MMA fighters and the women who can’t help but love them.

Author photo_ Sarah Castille

AUTHOR LINKS

TWITTER: https://twitter.com/sarah_castille

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/sarahcastilleauthor

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Blog Tour – Ready For His Rule by Angel Payne

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

Captain John Franzen. 

Inside the lines…

It’s the definition of life for Tracy Rhodes, and she has no choice about that. Lines–lots of them–are what happens when one is sworn in as second-in-command of the free world.

But the lines are crushed beneath the boots of Captain John Franzen, assigned as a special advisor to her security team for a high-profile event in Vegas. The towering warrior with the haunted stare shatters her composure, invades her libido, and makes her yearn for things she shouldn’t. Sweaty, illicit things…with her body pinned beneath his… 

Outside the boundaries…

John Franzen, six and a half feet of rigid composure on the outside, is a lost man on the inside. Why the hell is he even alive? A guy isn’t supposed to survive eleven years in Special Forces, especially after the crazy missions he’s been assigned. Accepting the security gig in Vegas is just a favor to a friend–a way to fill time that’s become too damn empty lately.

Until the cushy “babysitting job” becomes the most treacherous mission of his life–and the politician he’s protecting becomes the woman in his bed. The lover beneath his bonds… 

The submissive he longs to claim forever. 

Breaking all the rules…

She’s destined for marble halls and an oval office.

He’s wired for dirt and violence.

Will her passion be enough to tame his demons…to claim the ultimate wild boy as her own?

 

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He pulled back, watching his hand curl on itself in midair. He thought of all the damage that fist had done, to so many shitheads and losers over the years, but was now a symbol of utter helplessness—inches from a person he was aching to help. Fate was getting in all its best taunts today. His spirit hadn’t agonized this much even when the news about Nichols had come out.

But no way in hell was he leaving her in here, all but drowning herself in several senses of the word. If she ordered him all the way out of the shower, then he’d abide—and simply sit on the tile outside. One puddle for another; no difference to him physically—but he would stay here for her, whether she asked for it or not. Even if it fucking killed him.

For now, he chose to simply settle back on his haunches. Nearly as an afterthought, reached and cranked the spray off. In the eerie silence after, Tracy joined her quiet sniffs to the heavy drops of the draining water. John re-balled both his hands, hating even the inches between them. To not even touch her, let alone resist the baser need to clutch her close…

Fuck. Waterboarding had nothing on this shit.

And the worst part hadn’t even sunk in
She’s just following your lead, asshole.

That was the worst part.

In protecting her from his secret side, he’d been locked out of her secrets too. In shielding her from his darkness, she’d made sure he stayed right there—in the dark. Away from the ability to even give her some light…

Moron. You. Same sentence, Keoni John Franzen.

Finally, she snuffled with more determination. Jerked up her head a little, long enough to slide him a furtive side-eye, but nothing more. She pulled her hand all the way back in, tucking it beneath her chin as she settled her head against the wall again.

“I want to talk to Craig.”

A brutal exhalation left him. His throat tightened. His chest compressed. Hell, nothing was comfortable. Nor was it meant to be.

“I know you do,” he murmured.

“I’m…scared.”

“Screw uncomfortable. Everything was agony—especially when she wouldn’t even let him do anything about it. No. When he’d pushed her away out in the bedroom, letting her walk away with the impression that he wouldn’t do anything.

“I know you are.”

At least he had words. Paltry proxies, but they’d have to suffice somehow.

“I have no idea what to do.”

“But you don’t have to figure it out alone, ku`uipo.”

Her face contorted again, though not with impending tears. Her eyes flared with irritation. “Don’t call me that.”

He barely repressed a grin. “You’re gorgeous when you’re all hissy kitten.”

“Yeah? Well, I have Tigress claws, remember?”

“Fine, fine.” He held up both hands. “Maybe you just want ‘ma’am’ again?”

“And maybe you just want me to hunt down a flattening iron.”

His chuckle was impossible to tame. Her glower went from simmering to smoky. He had no idea there were so many nuances of gray. In her eyes, they were all fascinating.

“Maybe you can just close your eyes and pretend I’m Craig.” The offer was sincere—he was up for any creative solution here—but her laughter, high and biting, was nowhere near a vote of approval.

“That’s so not going to happen.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I’d know the difference.”

“How?”

“John.” Her laugh mellowed to a watery eye roll. He suddenly knew how Luke must feel when a test wasn’t studied for. “I’d know the difference between you and any other man.”

And just like that, no more feeling like her teen kid.

Feeling everything like the jerk who’d probably made the biggest mistake of his life with her earlier, and would spend the rest of his mortal days cussing himself out for it. “Fuck.” Might as well start now. “Ku`uipo.”

Her tigress side flared in a swift snarl. “What didn’t you understand about not calling me that?”

“And what don’t you understand that I’m only here to help?” The backlash, his higher ground pick of a reply, was still better than choice two: smashing one hell of a kiss on her feisty lips. “It slipped. So skewer me.”

Her regard softened. “It’s okay. Just…be careful.”

Now he was the one clinging to his scowl. “You don’t even know what it means.”

“I can guess by your tone.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“When your voice alone makes me want to come over there and maul you? Yeah.” She glanced again, letting her stare linger longer—to his intense pleasure. More intense than he wanted to admit, but couldn’t deny. Not when the heat from his skin met the wetness of his clothes and created a new experience for him. Steam Bath—in SenSurround.

“Tracy.” He heeded her request—the tone was new; perhaps the first time he’d ever used it outside a bondage dungeon before—though its replacement was just as merciless. Perhaps more so. He issued her name as a declaration…a command. Nothing he’d ever use on his battalion members, because this asked for a different kind of obedience. No. Demanded it.

“What?” She’d dropped her head but lifted it again. Her eyes had turned huge as a pair of London moons.

“Do you…want…to maul me?”

For the first time since he’d crawled in here, her body loosened. She opened up a little, still staring with the moon in her eyes—only now, joined by the comets in her energy. Untamed rogue comets—all aimed his direction. “‘Want’ isn’t the word I’d use.”

Flames licked the edges of her voice—and now the length of his cock. Fuck, how this woman got to him. How her spirit and sass challenged him. How her desire affected him…

“Tracy.” He didn’t hesitate about wielding the dungeon command now. Doubly deep, three times as severe.

“Wh-what?”

Oh, yeah. He also liked it when her defiance wobbled a little. What would it be like to make it shake a lot?”

“Get over here and maul me.”

 

AboutTheAuthor

USA Today bestselling romance author Angel Payne has been reading and writing her entire life, though her love for romances began in junior high, when writing with friends on “swap stories” they’d trade between classes. Needless to say, those stories involved lots of angst, groping, drama, and gooey kissing.

 

She began getting a paycheck for her writing in her twenties, writing record reviews for a Beverly Hills-based dance music magazine. Some years, various entertainment industry gigs, and a number of years in the hospitality industry later, Angel returned to the thing she loves the most: creating character-based romantic fiction. Along the way, she also graduated with two degrees from Chapman University in Southern California, taking departmental honors for English, before writing five historical romances for Kensington and Bantam/Doubleday/Dell. 

Angel found a true home in writing contemporary-based romances that feature high heat and high concepts, focusing on memorable alpha men and the women who tame them. She has numerous book series to her credit, including the Kinky Truth series, the Secrets of Stone series (with Victoria Blue), the W.I.L.D. Boys of Special Forces series, and the acclaimed Cimarron series. Temptation Court, a new series being launched through the Dark Nights Discovery project, debuts in 2016. 

Angel still lives in Southern California, where she is married to her soul mate and lives on a street that looks like Brigadoon, with their awesome daughter and Lady Claire, the dog with impeccable manners. When not writing, she enjoys reading, pop culture, alt rock, cute shoes, enjoying the outdoors, and being a gym rat. 

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