Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Release Blast & Giveaway: HEARTBREAKER by Stacey Kennedy


Handcuffs aren’t just part of their job...


HEARTBREAKER
Filthy Dirty Love #1
Stacey Kennedy
Releasing Jan 31st, 2017


Handcuffs aren’t just part of their job in this sizzling new standalone novel by USA Today bestselling author, Stacey Kennedy.

Veteran cop, Maddox Hunt, is all about the job. Sure, there are women—lots of women, truth be told—but there’s no one special. Until a one-night stand from his past, rookie Joss O’Neil is assigned to his division. Suddenly, all he can think about is her. The scent of her. The taste of her. 

Fresh out of field training, Joss has thrown herself into her job, determined to kick-start her career. And while police work has its thrills, her gorgeous new boss is what really gets her pulse pounding. Too bad he’s nothing but a distraction. Especially since he’s as devastatingly handsome as she remembers, and his sexy smile arrests her heart.

Now that Joss is back in Maddox’s life, he has a plan: satisfy her fantasies and fulfill his every dark desire. Nothing is off limits. Her pleasure is the endgame . . . but even the best-laid plans have a way of falling apart. Despite his best attempts to keep his distance and have things remain only about the pleasure, Maddox soon finds himself breaking the only law he’s set for himself. Don’t fall in love.





STACEY KENNEDY is the USA Today bestselling author of the Dirty Little Secrets and Club Sin series. She writes deeply emotional romances about powerful men and the wild women who tame them. When she’s not writing sensual stories, she spends her time in southwestern Ontario with her real life hero, her husband, their two young children, and her other babies: a mini labradoodle named Jax and a chocolate labrador named Murphy. Stacey is a proud chocolate, television show, Urban Barn, and wine addict. She likes her heroes in her books like she likes her coffee . . . strong and hot!

Launch Day Blitz & Giveaway: HARD RHYTHM by Cecilia Tan




ABOUT THE BOOK




Title: HARD RHYTHM

Author: Cecilia Tan

Series: Secrets Of A Rock Star, #3

On Sale: January 31, 2017

Publisher: Forever

Trade Paperback: $12.99 USD

eBook: $5.99 USD




Are they ready to go all the way?



Maddie Rofel has seen it all. Even the kinkiest games she witnesses working as a hostess in L.A.'s most exclusive private sex club fail to shock her, much less turn her on. Until the night she has a very personal encounter with drummer Chino Garcia, and the two discover an intimate connection neither can deny. Suddenly the jaded hostess is softening under Chino's touch, and submitting in ways she never expected . . .



All his life, Chino has been running from something. Normally he beats back his demons by losing himself in his music. Now he's losing himself in Maddie. And, while it drives Chino wild when Maddie bares her body to him, what he really wants is for Maddie to bare her soul. For that, Chino will have to push Maddie past her furthest limits-and share his own dark secrets.



BUY THE BOOK HERE











Excerpt
 
The final house was another split-level, built into the hill. The top floor had a patio, most of the bedrooms were on the middle floors, and the garage sat at the bottom.
As we entered the foyer we ran into the real estate agent, another woman, this one middle-aged. Her suit was dove gray, her scarf a riot of pinks and yellows like an Easter basket. “Welcome,” she said, and held out her hand to shake ours. “Mr. and Mrs.…?”
“Jones,” Chino said with a broad smile before leading me away to explore the property.
One of the bedrooms was built into the hill and only had one tiny window. As we took a turn through the room I said, “Here’s where we’d build the private dungeon, don’t you think, Mr. Jones?”
He slid up behind me, his hands fitting around my hips. “Would we? What would we furnish it with?”
“With all this wall space you could have a St. Andrew’s Cross over there, hang all the floggers and whips here, a sling there—”
“A sling?”
“Definitely,” I said with a knowing nod.
He slid his hand up my body until two fingers were holding my chin. “I like your…taste in interior decoration,” he said as he turned my head to the side. His grip tightened suddenly and I realized he had my other arm by the wrist, effectively trapping me in his embrace while he took lush liberties with his tongue in my mouth. He tasted dark and sweet and fresh all at once, and as I sucked in a breath I could feel how tightly he held me, the heat of his skin soaking through his shirt and warming my back. I could imagine us in the room outfitted as a dungeon, getting ready to play in it for the first time, and all the unfulfilled desire from last night flooded me once again.
We separated quickly when the realtor brought another couple into the room. I was flushed, my breath heaving, my lips tingling, but the realtor just smiled and the male half of the couple gave Chino a wink.
“Picking out drapes is my kink,” Chino said to the guy, as he slipped his sunglasses on.
He led me back to the car by the hand. It took me an unsteady moment to climb into my seat.
He started the engine but didn’t pull away, turning to me instead and saying, “So. This sexual chemistry thing.”
“Yeah?” I said, still reeling in a happy, hormonal daze. “I mean, yeah.”
He smiled. “Not just me, then.”
“Fuck no.”
Tsk. You’re supposed to say fuck yes.”
“You’re the one who said no to fucking me last night.” I couldn’t resist needling him about it since I couldn’t outright complain. I knew he’d done the responsible thing, the right thing, but I wasn’t used to being strung along and hunger for him gnawed at me.
He looked at the beads and silver on his arm and I realized he had a watch on, too. “When I fuck, I like to take my time. And we’ve got to get you back to town before five o’clock.”




THE SECRETS OF A ROCK STAR SERIES



TAKING THE LEAD, #1

WILD LICKS, #2

HARD RHYTHM, #3








ABOUT THE AUTHOR



Cecilia Tan writes about her many passions, from erotic fantasy to baseball. Not only is she an author, but she has also edited more than fifty erotic anthologies and founded her own publishing house, Circlet Press. Her short fiction has appeared in numerous magazines and her nonfiction on baseball has been in Baseball Ink, Gotham Baseball magazine, Yankees magazine, Yankees Annual, and elsewhere. Cecilia currently resides in Cambridge, Massachusetts.











FOLLOW FOREVER ONLINE
























Release Blitz & Giveaway: THE COTTAGE AT FIREFLY LAKE by Jen Gilroy





ABOUT THE BOOK




Title: THE COTTAGE AT FIREFLY LAKE

Author: Jen Gilroy

Series: Firefly Lake, #1

On Sale: January 31, 2017

Publisher: Forever

Mass Market: $5.99 USD

eBook: $5.99 USD




In the tradition of New York Times bestselling authors Susan Wiggs and RaeAnne Thayne comes an emotional second chance love story about redemption and finding your way home, the first in a new series by debut author Jen Gilroy.



Some mistakes can never be fixed and some secrets never forgiven . . . but some loves can never be forgotten.



Charlotte Gibbs wants nothing more than to put the past behind her, once and for all. But now that she's back at Firefly Lake to sell her mother's cottage, the overwhelming flood of memories reminds her of what she's been missing. Sun-drenched days. Late-night kisses that still shake her to the core. The gentle breeze off the lake, the scent of pine in the air, and the promise of Sean's touch on her skin . . . True, she got her dream job traveling the world. But at what cost?



Sean Carmichael still doesn't know why Charlie disappeared that summer, but after eighteen years, a divorce, and a teenage son he loves more than anything in the world, he's still not over her. All this time and her body still fits against his like a glove. She walked away once when he needed her the most. How can he convince her to stay now?





BUY THE BOOK HERE











Excerpt
 
“Do you still want to sell the cottage?” He took a shallow breath and leaned forward. Which was a mistake because now he was in touching and tasting distance of her.
“Of course.” Charlie looked down, but not before Sean caught the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “But my mom loved Firefly Lake. Maybe we can come up with a better option, one that won’t change everything she loved. What do you think?”
Sean’s breathing sped up. By working with her and Mia, he might be able to protect Carmichael’s. Protect his family, his community, and his way of life. But he’d also have to spend more time with Charlie. “I guess I could talk to the chamber of commerce and the Rotary Club.”
“You’re president of the Firefly Lake Rotary Club.” Charlie’s eyes twinkled. “I saw a picture in Nick’s office of the two of you at some Rotary dinner. You have influence.”
“Maybe I do, but why should I use it to help you and your sister?”
“This isn’t about helping us. It’s about Carmichael’s and Firefly Lake, and this whole special area.” Her eyes were wise, seeing through him like always. Seeing what mattered to him.
“I’ll think about it.” His gaze locked with hers and something sizzled between them. The heat that had always been there—but had deepened because they weren’t the kids they’d been.
“We don’t have anything against you.” She took a business card from the holder on the desk and traced the letters of his name. “But Mia. . . she’s dealing with . . .some stuff . . . She’s the only family I’ve got.”
Sean knew all about family loyalty. How it could suffocate you and force you into choices you didn’t want to make. “What kind of stuff?”
“I can’t . . . ” She swallowed, and a pulse worked in her jaw. “A Tat Chee development would hurt a lot of people. Mom wouldn’t have wanted something that hurt people who were her friends. Hurt the place she never forgot. Mia and I don’t want that either.”
“It has nothing to do with you and me?” Sean looked into her face, the girl he’d loved still there beneath the woman she’d become.
“Of course not.” Charlie’s voice trembled.
“Deny it all you want, but we’re still hooked together.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Beyond trying to get it out of our systems, I don’t know what the hell we can do about it.”
Charlie came around the desk. She licked her lips and his body leaped. “Even if there is still something between us, we can’t do anything about it.”
“Starting something again would be a bad idea.” Sean pushed the words out, over the tightness in his chest.
“A very bad idea.” Her voice was a sensual caress.
“What if we can’t help it?” He stood and shoved the chair away, sending it crashing into the wall to overturn. He reached for her, and the shock of her warm, bare skin jolted through him.
“I shouldn’t . . . ” But even as she spoke, she leaned into him, soft, like the Charlie he remembered. Her head fit into the curve of his shoulder like it belonged there.
 “Me neither.” He dipped his head and brushed his mouth against her neck, peaches and her scent greeting him. The one he could have picked out blindfolded even after all these years.
“Your mom told me to stay away from you.” She angled her neck toward his mouth.
“I told her to butt out.” He licked the sensitive cord in her neck, and she gasped.
“You did?” She whimpered as he intensified the caress.
He drew back. “You and me, we’re none of her business.”
“There isn’t a you and me. There can’t be. I’m only here for just over two more weeks.” Her words came out in a breathy moan. “Whatever this is, it can’t go anywhere. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Her small hands were gentle on his forearms. That gentleness was a side of her she didn’t let many people see.
“I know the rules.” He pulled her close again...




THE FIREFLY LAKE SERIES



THE COTTAGE AT FIREFLY LAKE, #1

SUMMER ON FIREFLY LAKE, #2








ABOUT THE AUTHOR






Jen Gilroy grew up under the big sky of western Canada. After many years in England, she now lives in a small town in eastern Ontario where her Irish ancestors settled in the nineteenth century. She's worked in higher education and international marketing but, after spending too much time in airports and away from her family, traded the 9-5 to write contemporary romance to bring readers' hearts home.



A small-town girl at heart, Jen likes ice cream, diners, vintage style and all things country. Her husband, Tech Guy, is her real-life romance hero, and her daughter, English Rose, teaches her to cherish the blessings in the everyday.











FOLLOW FOREVER ONLINE















Release Blitz & Giveaway: ALMOST A BRIDE by Jo Watson




ABOUT THE BOOK




Title: ALMOST A BRIDE

Author: Jo Watson

Series: Destination Love, #2

On Sale: January 31, 2017

Publisher: Forever

Trade Paperback: $14.99 USD

eBook: $4.99 USD




**Newly revised and expanded, Wattpad sensation Jo Watson's ALMOST A BRIDE is now available in print for the first time!**



That awkward moment you catch your boyfriend in bed with another woman and then mistakenly get arrested #chargesdropped



Annie knows life isn't always fair. Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. Sometimes you get mistaken for a crazed intruder when you come home early and find your boyfriend wearing nipple clamps with a coworker on the night you thought he was going to propose to you.



The important thing is to move on, and for Annie that means treating herself to a tropical vacation. But when she runs into her ex and his new woman staying at the same resort, reason is washed out to sea. Caught off guard, Annie pretends she's with Chris, a cute screenwriter she meets on the beach. With his own writing blocked, Chris is happy to help Annie craft a story to save face. Soon Annie isn't just getting over her ex, she's getting under Chris. As her fictional feelings grow increasingly real, Annie has to decide if she's ready to risk her heart on a new relationship.





BUY THE BOOK HERE














THE DESTINATION LOVE SERIES



BURNING MOON, #1

ALMOST A BRIDE, #2

FINDING YOU, #3





Excerpt
Iknew something was wrong the second I walked up to my front door.
Call it intuition. Call it a sixth sense. But I just knew.
I blame the shoes. The shoes were undoubtedly the cause of all the
problems that day. It was the shoes’ fault that I came home early, and
the shoes’ fault I was fired.
I suppose I can’t blame the shoes for making me late, though—
that was the alarm clock’s fault for rudely deciding not to do its job.
And when I finally realized, through the thick haze of sleepiness,
that it hadn’t gone off, it was too late. I was already late for work.
And when I say work, I mean my brand-new job—job of my
dreams—as a fashion assistant at Glamorous Girl mag.
I’d just made a total career change, leaving behind a successful job
as a stylist in advertising to pursue a job in the magazine industry. It
was early days, so I was still desperately trying to impress by being
perfect, polite, and oh so obliging. Whether it was the request for
the latte to be served at 97.7 degrees with no sugar, soy milk froth,
and a sprinkling of organic cocoa powder flown in directly from
the foothills of the Andes. Or whether it was for the jasmine-and-lavender-
scented candles to be burned in the office for exactly ten
minutes before my boss arrived—that was me.
Little Miss Annie Obliging.
Because let’s face it, the word assistant is just a glammed-up euphemism
for slave. But I was ambitious and determined, so when I
realized I wouldn’t be able to attend to the scented candles, or fetch
the latte, I panicked. So much so, that I left the house without the
said troublemaking, life-ruining, world-annihilating shoes.
Let’s take a moment to talk about the shoes. They weren’t
ordinary shoes, oh no, they were none other than the just-off-the-
Paris-catwalk-and-not-for-sale-to-mere-mortals-yet Christian Louboutins.
They also happened to be the centerpieces for that day’s
shoot.
The same rushed panic that had caused me to forget the shoes in
the first place had also left me with barely enough time to scrape my
hair back into a casual bun and slip on a creased T-shirt and pair of
jeans from my floor.
The latter is a bigger sin than you think. Because where I
work, wearing anything other than the most fashionable apparel
is sacrilege. People practically throw holy water at you and start
wailing in Latin for fear that you’ve been possessed by the demon
of bad fashion. In fact, a real demon possession, complete with a
backward-rolling head and the ability to speak in tongues, would
be preferable to the demon of last season’s handbag and Crocs
sandals.
So when I finally got to work, underdressed, out of breath, without
the shoes, and over an hour late, I was in serious trouble.
My boss was throwing a hissy fit, due to lack of flowery scents in
her office, and her personal assistant Cedric was in the throes of an
overly dramatic caffeine withdrawal, due to lack of latte.
And it kept getting worse.
Two hours later the panicky fashion director summoned the
Louboutins. Those shoes had been troublemakers from the start. It
had been an absolute trauma getting them in the first place. They’d
been flown into South Africa late the previous night, and I’d been
tasked with collecting them. Everyone was holding their collective
breath for the grand arrival. So when I was forced to confess to their
absence…well, you can only imagine.
When lunch finally arrived, I jumped into my car and sped home.
I had exactly one hour to get in and out before the photo shoot, more
than enough time.
I pulled into my driveway at breakneck speed, ran for the front
door, slipped my house keys into the lock, and turned—
But…
Something made me stop.
Something told me not to go inside.
Something was very wrong.
I looked around nervously. Everything seemed normal. Peter
across the road was blasting his TV as usual, the ratbag Chihuahua
from number 45 was running up and down the garden perimeter
yapping at an unseen force, and Mildred, my neighbor, was outside
watering her hydrangeas.
So why was I hesitating?
I took a deep breath and inched the door open.
Nothing looked out of place.
Everything was exactly the way I’d left it.
Yet everything felt wrong.
I slunk down the hallway toward the kitchen, where I knew I’d
find the shoes perched next to the coffeepot. But once inside, I was
hit by a terribly eerie sensation…someone was in the house. A shiver
licked the length of my spine when my suspicions were confirmed.
Creeeeaaakkk…A noise was coming from my bedroom directly
above me.
Shit, shit, shit, there was an intruder in the house!
I launched myself at the cutlery drawer, grabbing the largest knife
I could find while simultaneously dialing the police and still managing
to hold on to the shoes for dear life.
“Police! Help, there’s an intruder in my house. Forty-Seven Mendelssohn
Road, Oaklands. Quick.”
Now what? I’d never been in a situation like this before. What
was the correct protocol? Should I hide, evacuate the house, attack
the intruder, scream loudly? Or perhaps a combination of the above?
I thought for a second before deciding to get the fuck out of there!
But just as I had one foot safely installed outside the front door, I
heard another noise. This time it was different. It was…
It sounded like…
My blood ran cold.
But it couldn’t be. Trevv was at work. Trevv had a very important
day in court, he told me. His client’s final hearing was today. Right
now, in fact. I’d called him from my office about an hour ago and
he’d told me he was in court.
He was in court, dammit!
I started climbing the stairs.
More noises.
Two voices?
But that was impossible…wasn’t it?
The noises grew louder and louder the farther up the stairs I
went. I’m not really sure at what point I knew what the noises were
or knew what I was going to see when I opened the door. But I just
knew.
It’s one thing walking in on your boyfriend having sex with another
woman, but it’s another thing entirely walking in on him the
second the other woman is coming. She was facing the door but was
bouncing up and down so vigorously that her face was a blur. And
then suddenly her body stiffened, she threw her head back, opened
her mouth, and let out a high-pitched wail. As if that wasn’t self explanatory
enough, she decided to toss in a few words for good
measure.
“Yes, Trevvy, yes. Oh my God, oh my God, oh Trevvy. Harder!
Ah, ah, ah.” *Pant, pant, pant* “I’m coming!” *Long high-pitched
scream*
Now…there were several things wrong with this picture, aside
from the obvious. Firstly, who the hell screams like that in bed? No
one does! Sex is not so good that you have to break the sound barrier
with your squealing dolphin sounds. Secondly, what the hell was
she wearing? She was clad in some kind of leathery studded number
that looked like it had been worn by one of the Village People. And
to make matters worse, Trevv was blindfolded with the tie that I had
bought him two Christmases ago and…OH MY GOD…were those,
were those…nipple clamps?
I felt sick to my stomach.
And thirdly, who was this mystery woman without an ounce of cellulite,
without the slightest smidge of fat, and with boobs that seemed
to defy all known natural laws of gravity and motion? Which
woman can be that damn perfect…
…and then her features came into focus and the answer dawned
on me.
Tess.
Tess Blackman.
My boyfriend’s “coworker.” The woman I’d invited into
my home on several occasions for dinner. The woman that I always
phoned when I couldn’t get hold of Trevv, because I knew they
were probably together working on a case, tired and exhausted and
burning the midnight oil when they’d rather be at home with their
significant others. She had a fiancé after all.
Poor overworked Trevv and Tess.
God, I was naive.
But the show didn’t end there. Tess’s eyes were still closed when
Trevv started making some delightful grunting-moaning-squeaking
sounds. He’d never made sounds like that with me before. His sweaty
hands reached up and grabbed at her hungrily.
Faster.
Harder.
Loud, long moan.
I was frozen. It’s hard to know what to do when you watch your
partner of two years with his penis somewhere you wouldn’t even
like to imagine, let alone witness in full blinding daylight.
Once all their postcoital panting had tapered off, Tess opened her
eyes and saw me standing in the doorway. The look on her face was
indescribable. Shock and horror and fear all at the same time. And
then she opened her mouth and screamed.
Trevv then turned his head toward the door and whipped off his
blindfold. Our eyes locked and then he did something truly bizarre.
Unexpected. He grabbed Tess by the hand and dragged her to the
other side of the bed.
“Anne, please…you don’t want to do this.” Trevv threw his hands
in the air defensively. He looked terrified. She was bleating hysterically
by this stage.
What was going on? Wasn’t I the jilted one? Wasn’t I the one
that was supposed to be upset? I started walking toward them, which
seemed to only make matters worse.
“Anne, please. Please.” He seemed to be begging now. “Think
about what you’re doing. I know this is bad, but this isn’t the way to
handle it. Please don’t do this.”
Things happened pretty quickly after that. Suddenly, the room
was filled with armed police officers. I was about to tell them they
could all go home, when Trevv cut me off.
“She has a knife. She’s going to kill us!” he shouted, pointing at me.
What knife? I glanced at my hands, and that’s when I realized I
was still holding the large knife, and it was pointed in their direction.
I quickly turned to explain. “I wasn’t going to—”
“Ma’am…” One of the police officers cut me off and started creeping
toward me as if I was a feral pit bull that hadn’t eaten in a week.
“Put down your weapon.”
“I swear, this isn’t what you think, I was just trying to—”
BAM! Face on floor, handcuffs around wrists.
Three really painful things happened at that point: One, the knife
slipped and cut the entire length of my palm. Two, some of my
newly acquired, gorgeous nails snapped off. And three, the crystal-encrusted,
six-inch heel of the priceless Louboutin snapped off,
rolled across the floor lifelessly, and disappeared under the bed.




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Jo Watson is an award-winning writer of romantic comedies. Burning Moon won a Watty Award in 2014. Jo is an Adidas addict and a Depeche Mode devotee.












FOLLOW FOREVER ONLINE