Thursday, April 25, 2019

Promo: Red Zone by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

Meet the Author:

I grew up in Scotland, but after I met my Dutch husband in America we decided to move to New Zealand and that's where we've settled. We bought a patch of land that we've filled with other people's unwanted animals - we didn't advertise for them, they found us! So far we have three miniature horses (we took in two and were surprised 11 months later when a third appeared - yep, we know nothing about horses!), three anti-social alpacas, a grumpy cow, one pet sheep who wants to live in the house, a crazy goat who keeps eating my manuscripts and an escape artist chicken who breaks into our house through the cat flap. And that's just the pets who live outside the house - don't even get me started on the demented, farting dog who keeps burying my shoes! On top of this I have two small girls, one DIY obsessed husband (I said "obsessed" not "skilled") and a 92 year old neighbor who thinks she lives with us. In between cuddling animals and herding kids, I write books. If you'd like to sign up for my newsletter, which happens sporadically - usually when books are being released - then you'll find a form on my website. In the meantime, happy reading!
Connect: Site | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

About the Book:

Welcome to the new world. Things have changed just a bit. Big Brother’s not only monitoring important things like what toilet paper you buy—it now has direct access to everything you see thanks to the mandatory implant you get at birth. And Friday Jones has seen something she wishes she hadn’t.
Now she has all kinds of undesirables after her—some to straight up kill her and others who want to steal what’s locked in her head. So, she’ll need the help of a ruthless mercenary, Striker, if she has any chance at survival. That he’s a jerk, who she wants to punch in the face, well…a dying woman sometimes has to make tough choices.
Striker’s special abilities have kept him in the shadows for a reason. He has no interest in getting mixed up with the smart-mouthed, hard-headed women no matter how his body reacts. But then he discovers what’s in her head and all bets are off.

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Excerpt:

He raced down the stairs, dragging her after him. “Yep.”

“The walls, they were camouflage—holo-shields. Was the roof real or another holo-shield?”

“It was real.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs, where he opened a reinforced door—twenty inches of steel. A tunnel lay behind it. It was narrow, barely wide enough to fit Striker’s shoulders, and the ceiling skimmed his head. She silently said a prayer of gratitude that she wasn’t claustrophobic.

Her mind distracted her from the small space by working on other problems. “They’ll detect the energy signature from the holo-shields. They’ll know where to look.”

“Not until they’ve chased the bike for a while.” He still held her hand tight in his. For some strange reason, Friday didn’t want him to let go. “And if they do find the shields, as soon as they open the door in the alley, the staircase will blow. They won’t find the tunnel.”

“You sound awfully confident.” And she wasn’t sure it was merited.

“We set up this escape route when we started using Glen’s dive bar as a meeting point a couple of years ago.” He glanced at her, clearly amused. “This isn’t the first time we’ve had to use it. And, if the assholes don’t blow it up, it won’t be the last. This isn’t my first rodeo, chère.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

He just laughed, which was seriously irritating.

Her life was on the line and the guy was amused.

“You know that’s rude, right? Every time I say something, you laugh.”

“Really? You’re taking issue with my manners? We’re about a hundred feet below ground, running from men with guns, and you’re annoyed with my attitude. Is it any wonder I laugh?”

She scowled at his back but vowed to keep her mouth shut. “Does this tunnel run under the border?” Drat, that vow didn’t last long.

“They monitor the earth under the wall. You can’t tunnel there.”

So where did the tunnel go? Why were they using it? How were they going to get past the wall?

There was more chuckling. “I can hear you thinking. That brain of yours never stops, does it?”

Now he was just trying to irritate her. “Do intelligent women threaten you, Striker?”

The sultry look he cast her way made her stumble. “All the damn time, bébé, but my luck’s held out, and so far, they’ve never carried through with it.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.

Giveaway:

  • $15 Amazon Gift Card
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Promo: Learning Curve by Andi Jaxon

Title: Learning Curve
Author: Andi Jaxon
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: April 18, 2019
Alister Bennet
Loyal, reliable... predictable even, I’ve always done what's expected of me. Stay out of trouble, get my teaching degree and build a respectable career as a college professor. The job comes with a long list of rules and at the top of that list is no fraternizing with students. Following the rules seemed easy enough, until a dark, tortured boy sat outside my office waiting for me. His voice told me it was his grade he was worried about, but the deep onyx pools of his eyes told me more as they shook the solid ground I’d always stood on. 
Am I willing to risk my career, my carefully built reputation, to help one so filled with pain I can taste it?
Benjamin Wallace
Rejected, abused, and abandoned my entire life, all I’ve ever wanted was to be accepted, loved even. I thought going to college on a scholarship would be my ticket out of hell, but nothing good ever comes without a price. As graduation nears I find myself drawn to the mysterious professor like a moth to a flame. Just one meeting with the man that has been staring in my dreams has my soul screaming for him to hold me, comfort me. A relationship isn't just frowned upon, it's forbidden, but the heart doesn't always know the difference. 
Can I trust my mangled heart in his perfect life when my past repeats itself or will he destroy what is left of me? 
*Author's note: This is an MM teacher-student romance with themes including abuse and kidnapping. This story ends with a HEA.*
Laundry Librarian - “Have you ever been touched by a story so deeply, the feelings it draws out of you linger for weeks, months or even years after finishing it? Learning Curve was that kind of book for me.”
The Little Bookworm - “I love a great forbidden romance and Learning Curve is definitely now on the top of that list for me.”
A Book Lover’s Emporium Book Blog - “Forbidden? Teacher/student? M/M? Oh HELL YEAH! This book has all my favourite things!”
From Dyslexic kid with a love of Algebra to a published author, no one is more surprised to find me here, than I am. I love to write about tortured pasts and hot sex, a happily ever after that has to be worked for. My stories tend to be a little dark but with some comic relief, typically in the form of sarcasm.
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Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Promo: Every Last Breath by Juno Rushdan

Every Last Breath
By: Juno Rushdan
Publication Date: 4/30/2019 

48 hours
2 covert operatives
1 chance to get it right

Maddox Kinkade is an expert at managing the impossible. Tasked with neutralizing a lethal bioweapon, she turns to the one person capable of helping her stop the threat of pandemic in time: the love of her life, back from the dead and mad as hell at her supposed betrayal. Recruiting Cole to save millions of lives may be harder than resisting the attraction still burning between them, but Maddox will do whatever it takes...even if it destroys her.

When Maddox crashes back into Cole Matthews' life, he wants to fight back. He wants to hate her. But the crisis is too strong to ignore, and soon the two former lovers find themselves working side-by-side in a breakneck race to stop a world-class killer with a secret that could end everything.

The clock is ticking.

The Final Hour Series:
Every Last Breath
Nothing to Fear (coming August 2019)
Until the End (coming early 2020)

Purchase Links:

Indiebound: http://bit.ly/2GvApvO

Author Website: https://junorushdan.com/



Excerpt:


F STREET, WASHINGTON, DC
12:21 P.M. EDT
No thought of how far he’d have to run, how long he had to push, Cole held a singular focus: catch the Ghost.
To keep Maddox safe, he had to reach the devil first.
Extending his stride in a flat--out sprint, Cole gave it everything. His shoulder hurt like hell.
He was gaining on him. Less than thirty feet, chipping away at the distance with every hot lungful.
Just ahead was the Gallery Place Metro—-one of the busiest stations in DC. A throng of passengers streamed in and out of the cavernous entrance. The Ghost wove between people, darting to the left then right, flowing like a stream of water around stones.
Don’t lose him. Stay close. Almost there.
Cole knocked a man out of the way and slipped through a narrow opening in the pedestrian herd. The entrance cleared ahead, and there was Novak.
The Ghost zipped past the station agent, Metrorail vending machines, and vaulted over the turnstile in one fluid motion.
Steamrolling forward into the musty air and under the fluorescent lights of the station, Cole hopped the turnstile.
Maddox’s pounding footsteps weren’t far behind.
Cole cut to the east side of the Metro station, keeping sight of the Ghost. Escalators to the trains on the lower level were around a corner. Hopefully, passengers lining the moving staircase would slow Novak down.
What if he deployed the weapon in the station or on the Metrorail? The virus would spread fast with no way to contain it.
Novak hesitated at the escalators and snapped a glimpse over his shoulder, not looking the least bit winded. Their eyes met, and that freakish smile hitched up Novak’s mouth. In a flash, he whirled, facing the escalator.
Then he jumped onto the wide metal panel running between the escalators and slid down.
Shit!
Breathless, Cole reached the escalator and peered over the side. Down a long, steep descent running several stories below ground. Really fucking long and very steep.
Sonofabitch. Novak had no limits and kept pushing the line. Cole hated heights, but that lunatic was getting away, and Maddox was closing in. No time. No time to think.
He vaulted onto the steel divider flanked by the two escalators.
“Dude, you’re crazy,” quipped a teenage kid getting off.
It felt a hell of a lot crazier than it looked. With the constraints of the narrow panel, Cole was forced to roll onto his side as
Novak had done. Maddox’s pounding footsteps drew closer. Not giving himself a chance to chicken out, he let go and gravity took him.
In a lightning rush, he zipped down cool, smooth steel feetfirst.
“Cole!” Maddox’s voice echoed overhead.
His jackhammering heart blasted into his throat, followed by his stomach. He slid down the tight divider like a slick stone.
The faces of gawking onlookers were a blur. He braced, leaning back against the steep, eighty--foot decline. He almost swallowed his tongue.
To control his breathless descent, he thrust his forearms out to the sides.
Bad idea.
His sleeves dragged against the rubber handrails, the friction turning his quicksilver slide into a jerky ride. He feared flipping over the side onto the steel teeth of an escalator.
Weightless, helpless, he drew his arms in close to his body.
Not every Metro in DC had bumpers. The puck--sized discs didn’t stop a fall, only turned a person into tenderized meat by the time they reached the bottom. He was grateful not to face any here.
The ground below was a desperate hope rushing toward him, coming at him fast. But it was the longest eight seconds of his life.
Wild exhilaration wrestled with fear.
Fear was better.
It’d keep him sharp and hungry. Keep him alive.
Novak reached the bottom and glanced up at Cole before disappearing in the direction of the Red line.
Swooshing off the metal panel, Cole’s feet stumbled finding the floor. The electric surge rising in him was akin to being born again. He fell to one knee and sprang forward, following the trail of twisting heads and necks craned over shoulders.
The corridor spilled onto the westbound platform. People stood shoulder to shoulder. Jam--packed with kids, from teens to middle-schoolers, in a patchwork of yellow, green, light--blue, and red T--shirts.
Damn it. Summer camp field trips.
Across the tracks, the eastbound side was worse. He glanced at the inbound train sign overhead—-three minutes ETA.
Three minutes before the Ghost could be lost in the wind.
Dim lighting in the concave tunnel turned needle--in--a--haystack into finding a needle in a pine forest, at night. Red LED lights lined the bumpy tiles along the edge of the platform but did nothing to brighten the landscape. Chest heaving, he slowed his breathing while scanning for a dark ball cap, black backpack. Anyone in long sleeves.
He shouldered past people, weaving around a huddle of kids and chaperones in light blue T--shirts that read Ride the Summer Wave. Every ten steps, he checked his rear, ensuring he hadn’t missed the Ghost, somehow overlooked him in the sea of passengers.
Maddox made it down, rushing onto the eastbound side across the tracks. She scoured the platform.
Cole pressed forward. Most bodies stayed stationary or paced one to two feet within a localized space. He caught glimpses of one person with a blue ball cap and backpack. Drifting slowly. Snaking around shifting figures. Cole bulldozed his way to the thin male.
Metallic bitterness coated his tongue. He clasped a hand on the man’s shoulder and wrenched him around.
A wide--eyed young man with olive--toned skin stared back. “Hey, buddy, what’s your problem?”
“Sorry.” Cole raised his palms and backed off.
Red LED lights across the tracks on Maddox’s side flashed. A train was coming.
Two minutes until his westbound train arrived. He stepped up his pace through the milling flock of people, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. His sixth sense, the electric worm, carved a wriggling path from his skull down his spine, fizzing and spitting sparks across his nerve endings.
The rumble of the eastbound train resounded. Cole glanced back to see lights and Maddox peering down the tunnel at the inbound train. Dread churned his gut.
He faced forward and caught the Ghost’s steely gaze at the other end of the same platform. No baseball cap. The maniacal grin on full display. A moment. Less. A millisecond. Cole pushed toward him, storming through the gaggle of day campers.
Novak made his move. A bloodcurdling scream rent the air as the Ghost leapt off the platform, arm locked around a woman, hauling her over the side along with him. He let go of her and dashed across the westbound tracks, avoiding the electrified third rail.
Bounding over a strip of lighting in the middle, Novak rushed across the eastbound tracks. He jumped, pressing his hands onto the platform, and lifted his body with the fluidity of a gymnast. The flat--faced train whizzed into the station on the opposite side, concealing Maddox and the Ghost from sight.
Red lights flashed on Cole’s platform. He ran to help the fallen woman. Elbowing anyone in his way, he rushed to the far end.
The eastbound train on the other side stopped and the doors opened.
Cole swept paralyzed gawkers to the side and reached down to the plump woman in the light yellow T--shirt, Pirates and Princesses Summer Camp written across the front. Out of his peripheral vision, cowering children shrieked and whimpered.
“Come on.” He beckoned to the stunned woman clambering to her feet. “Take my hand.”
Chimes dinged from the train across the way, and his skin prickled. Doors were about to close.
“Let’s go, lady,” he snapped at her, trying to get her moving.
Lights of the approaching westbound train on his side did the trick.
A horn blared, kicking the woman into action, hustling to the platform. She grabbed both his hands and he held tight to her forearms and heaved. Thankfully, she was lighter than she looked, but his back still protested. A black kid in his late teens, with headphones on, helped him tug her the rest of the way up onto the platform.
“You okay?” Cole asked.
She nodded, and tears streaked down her cheeks. Covering her face with her hands, she broke into sobs. Yellow T—shirts gathered around her, and Cole shot to his feet.
The train on the other side pulled out. The steel cars vanished down the dark tunnel. He swept a frantic gaze over the platform.
Empty.
Cole’s blood drained from his head as a hot ball of panic burned a hole in his gut.
Maddox and the Ghost were both gone.

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Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Promo: Pretty Lies, Ugly Truths Duet with Sweet Poisons & Sick Remedies by Natalie Bennett

Duet Title: Pretty Lies, Ugly Truths Duet
Titles: Sweet Poisons & Sick Remedies 
Author: Natalie Bennett
Genre: Dark New Adult Romance
Cover Design: Jay Aheer
RELEASE DATE: MAY 14, 2019
Rhett Sullivan
Mysterious boy painted in shades of red.
Nova Markov
Eccentric girl dripping in sunshine.
He was the type mothers warned their little girls about—a cocky, rich asshole with a pretty smile, unapologetically insane and wild.
I was the type guys like him usually ignored—a free spirit who hid my crazy beneath an odd good girl facade and the art hanging on my studio walls.
We were opposites in every way but one, and we collided like two runaway trains that never had a chance of stopping.
What blossomed between us, our 'relationship,' was maniacal.
We were stuck in a cycle of madness.
Rhett Sullivan became a bittersweet poison I couldn't get enough of.
In the end, that's what destroyed me.
Because in the end?
Our love was nothing but a lie.
**The Pretty Lies, Ugly Truths Duet is a sordid New Adult romance with various graphicly dark themes. **
RELEASE DATE: MAY 28, 2019
BLURB COMING MAY 21, 2019
Natalie Bennett is the creator of erotic stories that always come with a warning label. She writes about depraved alpha a**holes and women that love to hate them. Her books don't follow any specific tropes, have no set word counts, and tend to deviate from traditional HEA's.
When she isn't in front of her computer she's spending time with her husband and their three little boys.
Natalie is an avid fan of caramel frappes, horror movies, Shameless, and of course, reading.
You can find Natalie on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
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