 We’re having a big party and you’re all invited. There are 3 options to get your book to our readers. You can pick more than one option and donate more than one book, if you’d like. We had a fabulous turn out for our last genre party (almost 1,500 visitors for the week)!  1. Donation: Add your book to one of the book bundles that we’ll be giving away to readers. It’s a great way to get your name in front of potential fans. This can be an Ebook or a print book. When a winner is picked, we’ll email you with their information. No free books accepted. Multiple books accepted. Swag accepted. Self-published accepted. Must be in the paranormal genre (any sub genre welcome) Fee: Free ALL SPOTS FILLED 2. Excerpt: Everyday we’re posting excerpts for readers to read and comment to win prizes (books, swag or gift cards). This is fantastic exposure for your book! You get your excerpt (400 words), small cover and buy link. In order for a reader to win any prize they must read your excerpt and answer a question/comment. Book must be in the paranormal genre (any sub genre welcome) Self-published accepted. Multiple excerpts accepted. FEE: $15 via PayPal per excerpt. ALL SPOTS FILLED 3) Ad space: Cover’s will be placed beside the giveaway posts. Everyone can see your book as they scroll through the party. You get one cover, one link, brief caption for the FULL WEEK of the party. These will rotate daily. Self-published accepted. Book review sites promos/buttons and publisher promo accepted. These can be any genre. FEE: $10 via PayPal per cover. Promotion: We’ve created promotional images that you can use and share for the party. It was created by our very own artist Christine. This party will take place on our site. It will be promoted on our Twitter, Goodreads, Instagram, Facebook, our newsletter and by any author that joins. We'll be adding gift card giveaways throughout the week ($50, $20, $10, $5 and book bundles.). And last but not least: ALL pairings are welcome (m/f, m/m, f/f, ect). New releases and older books accepted. If you have any questions please email us: thetbrpile@gmail.com You must book your spot by: February 26thIf you don't hear back in 24 hours please email us:
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 | “Will you beat me without knowing the reason?” That’s the question I ask when I go to clubs to seek out Sadists. Most men say no immediately. They see the flags my question raises and walk away. They’re the good guys. They’re the guys who adhere to safe, sane, and consensual. They wanna be aware of the risks and cause no harm. But I’m not looking for a good guy. I’m looking for punishment. The strobe lights hit me as I reach their table. The heavy, industrial music is deafening, and my head is |
swimming with images of grief, fire, and accusation. I hear the piercing tone of a machine letting me know that I have to tell my two kid brothers that our sister’s heart will never beat again.
Maybe these two twin Sadists will help me. The only thing bigger than River and Reese Tenley is their reputation. They better not let me down.
I ask my question. I ask if they’ll beat me without knowing why I want it.
They give me a stone-cold onceover, and I don’t know if it’s River or Reese who responds. He has a menacing-looking tattoo on his neck.
“Sure. It’s your funeral.”
Maybe these two twin Sadists will help me. The only thing bigger than River and Reese Tenley is their reputation. They better not let me down.
I ask my question. I ask if they’ll beat me without knowing why I want it.
They give me a stone-cold onceover, and I don’t know if it’s River or Reese who responds. He has a menacing-looking tattoo on his neck.
“Sure. It’s your funeral.”
Sneak Peek
“Tell us what pain you’re looking for.”
Oh, I could do that. I could definitely do that.
I sat down across from them and took out my lollipop, gesturing it between them. “Who’s River, and who’s Reese?”
Neck Tattoo was clearly the talker. “I’m Reese.”
Reese, all right. Christ, they were hot. Hotter up close.
“Do you recognize me?” I had to ask. No matter how “exclusive” they liked to call their own group of kinksters, they still had nearly 150 members.
Reese’s mouth twitched slightly. “We know who you are, Shay.”
Well, okay, then. I wasn’t gonna assume.
“I like severe impact and extreme degradation,” I said.
The other guy, River, seemed to find that amusing for some reason. It showed in his eyes, and he exchanged a glance with his brother.
No words, just a quick look.
Reese smirked faintly and eyed me. “If we had a nickel for every time we’ve heard a masochist say they want anything extreme… Most people don’t know severe pain.”
I wasn’t most people, and I wasn’t going to let myself be intimidated by their superior asshole behavior.
“Are you sure you’re not just looking for a bit of flogging?” Reese wondered.
“Are you sure you have a dick to go with that big-dick personality?” I asked in return.
He offered a full-fledged grin at that. Then he sat forward and rested his forearms on the table. “Tell you what. We’re not actually looking for a temporary plaything in the city. But if you’re interested in coming out to the house in Mclean so we can brutalize you the way we like, let us know.”
Brutalize.
That word did something to me. It weighed heavier and carried a promise, because you didn’t throw it around for shits and giggles. They were serious.
I wanted to be brutalized for my failures.
Oh, I could do that. I could definitely do that.
I sat down across from them and took out my lollipop, gesturing it between them. “Who’s River, and who’s Reese?”
Neck Tattoo was clearly the talker. “I’m Reese.”
Reese, all right. Christ, they were hot. Hotter up close.
“Do you recognize me?” I had to ask. No matter how “exclusive” they liked to call their own group of kinksters, they still had nearly 150 members.
Reese’s mouth twitched slightly. “We know who you are, Shay.”
Well, okay, then. I wasn’t gonna assume.
“I like severe impact and extreme degradation,” I said.
The other guy, River, seemed to find that amusing for some reason. It showed in his eyes, and he exchanged a glance with his brother.
No words, just a quick look.
Reese smirked faintly and eyed me. “If we had a nickel for every time we’ve heard a masochist say they want anything extreme… Most people don’t know severe pain.”
I wasn’t most people, and I wasn’t going to let myself be intimidated by their superior asshole behavior.
“Are you sure you’re not just looking for a bit of flogging?” Reese wondered.
“Are you sure you have a dick to go with that big-dick personality?” I asked in return.
He offered a full-fledged grin at that. Then he sat forward and rested his forearms on the table. “Tell you what. We’re not actually looking for a temporary plaything in the city. But if you’re interested in coming out to the house in Mclean so we can brutalize you the way we like, let us know.”
Brutalize.
That word did something to me. It weighed heavier and carried a promise, because you didn’t throw it around for shits and giggles. They were serious.
I wanted to be brutalized for my failures.
Prize One:
Prize Two:
Prize Three:
TO ENTER:
1. Comment below on what your favorite part of the sneak peek was?
2. Have you read Cara Dee before?
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.
There are 14 posts during the week. Each comment will be 1 entry for the prize of the Amazon Fire 7 tablet!
 | When JUDAH MADDEN flees his tiny suffocating home town in New Zealand for the dream of international ballet stardom, he never intends coming back. Not to Painted Bay. Not to his family’s struggling mussel farm. Not to his jerk of a brother. Not with his entire life plan in shreds. And certainly not into the tempting arms of MORGAN WIPENE, the older, ruggedly handsome fisheries officer who seems determined to screw with Judah’s intention to wallow in peace. But dreams are fickle things. Shatter them and it’s hard to pick up the pieces. Hard to believe. Hard to start again. |
And the hardest thing of all? Finding the courage to trust in love and build a new dream where you least expected to find it.
Sneak Peek
I braced a hand on the ice-white tiles and jerked myself off to the image of a man who had no business occupying my boathouse shower on a Saturday morning, especially after I’d thrown his sorry arse off our property less than twelve hours before. And yet here he was—in my head. And where was my hand? On my fucking dick. Go figure.
The upside? I actually had the energy to expend on a little self-pleasure. I’d managed to sleep until ten and it had been five days without a full-blown vertigo attack—the drop attacks didn’t drain me quite the same way. Go me. Maybe the meds were finally working. It was enough to have me looking at the world in a better light, at any rate.
So Morgan had been married, huh? And there he was again, front and centre in my pea-sized, lust-addled brain. Still, I hadn’t seen that particular twist coming. But then, an attractive guy like that, it made sense that someone nailed his arse down at some point. I couldn’t imagine losing someone so important after such a short time.
And judging by the tone in Morgan’s voice, the loss was still painful, still fresh. What would it feel like to be loved by someone, by a man, by Morgan, so deeply? There was an intensity to him that promised you’d never have to question it. He’d show you every day.
I shook my head at the thought. Like Morgan would be remotely interested in someone as fucked up as me. For a quick fuck? Sure. For more than that? He’d have to be a raging masochist.
Nothing said doomed relationship like a guy with no job, no prospects, a bad attitude and a chronic illness. Which is why I needed to keep this thing between us to friends. I liked Morgan, more than was good for me, or explicable from the brief time we’d spent together. I liked him enough to know that if we started something, I’d miss him when it fell apart. But if we kept it to friends, then maybe he’d stick around for me to enjoy, and I liked the idea of that, liked it a whole lot.
I dried off, threw on some old dance leggings and a T-shirt, and froze once again at my reflection in the full-length mirror, briefly contemplating a life where I didn’t have Meniere’s and could give free rein to the attraction I felt for Morgan.
How the hell had this become my life?
The upside? I actually had the energy to expend on a little self-pleasure. I’d managed to sleep until ten and it had been five days without a full-blown vertigo attack—the drop attacks didn’t drain me quite the same way. Go me. Maybe the meds were finally working. It was enough to have me looking at the world in a better light, at any rate.
So Morgan had been married, huh? And there he was again, front and centre in my pea-sized, lust-addled brain. Still, I hadn’t seen that particular twist coming. But then, an attractive guy like that, it made sense that someone nailed his arse down at some point. I couldn’t imagine losing someone so important after such a short time.
And judging by the tone in Morgan’s voice, the loss was still painful, still fresh. What would it feel like to be loved by someone, by a man, by Morgan, so deeply? There was an intensity to him that promised you’d never have to question it. He’d show you every day.
I shook my head at the thought. Like Morgan would be remotely interested in someone as fucked up as me. For a quick fuck? Sure. For more than that? He’d have to be a raging masochist.
Nothing said doomed relationship like a guy with no job, no prospects, a bad attitude and a chronic illness. Which is why I needed to keep this thing between us to friends. I liked Morgan, more than was good for me, or explicable from the brief time we’d spent together. I liked him enough to know that if we started something, I’d miss him when it fell apart. But if we kept it to friends, then maybe he’d stick around for me to enjoy, and I liked the idea of that, liked it a whole lot.
I dried off, threw on some old dance leggings and a T-shirt, and froze once again at my reflection in the full-length mirror, briefly contemplating a life where I didn’t have Meniere’s and could give free rein to the attraction I felt for Morgan.
How the hell had this become my life?
Prize One:
Prize Two:
Prize Three:
TO ENTER:
1. Comment below on what your favorite part of the sneak peek was?
2. Have you read Jay Hogan before?
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.
There are 14 posts during the week. Each comment will be 1 entry for the prize of the Amazon Fire 7 tablet
 |
|
Best Sellers on Amazon:
Best Sellers on Barnes and Nobles:
Prize One:
Prize Two:
TO ENTER:
1. What lesbian romance book would you recommend and why?
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.
There are 14 posts during the week. Each comment will be 1 entry for the prize of the Amazon Fire 7 tablet!
 | Sheena has been an international agent for the past twelve years--twelve long years of constant movement, being sent all over the world to hopefully do good things in other countries. She has enjoyed most of the aspects of her exciting life, including the many men she has been able to amuse herself with during her rare time-off days in-between assignments. She has never been tempted to break the cardinal rule, which is that agents are not allowed to have emotions, which are too dangerous in their line of work. She has spent years suppressing them quite successfully. When a famous actor walks into the safe-house bar in Berlin where she is beginning a few days of down-time, |
she decides that seducing him is just the thing she needs to help her ignore the strange feeling of discontent that she has been plagued with lately. Tall and bronzed, the Native American actor has long black hair and a commanding air that interests everyone else in the bar as well. But to her delight, his eyes are only on Sheena. They spend days in her borrowed apartment, discovering the joys to be had in sharing their bodies with each other. Slowly, Sheena is forced to realize that she is developing feelings. Finding out that Cory is already in love with her adds another layer of danger. She will have to leave him when she is given her next assignment. That has never been a problem for her before.
Will she be able to forget him once she leaves him? Will he ever forgive her? Since she is not ever supposed to see the same man twice, will it matter?
Will she be able to forget him once she leaves him? Will he ever forgive her? Since she is not ever supposed to see the same man twice, will it matter?
Sneak Peek
Set-up--Sheena is a secret agent who had a torrid love affair with Cory, a famous actor, while she had some time off in-between assignments, in Berlin. They fell in love, but when she got her next assignment, she had to leave without telling him why. Now she's embedded in an IRA cell, in California, and walks into a celebrity party with the dangerous guys of the cell. She sees Cory playing with the band on a stage, and realizes he'll recognize her. She panics and runs upstairs to the bathroom, to figure out how to escape without getting either of them killed.
She jumped at the sound of someone pounding on the bathroom door. "It's occupied." She shouted loudly, hoping to get them to go away.
After a short pause, the pounding started again.
"Go away! Find another bathroom!" She yelled louder, starting to channel her emotional upheaval into the safety of controlled anger, which instantly made her feel calmer and more herself.
The pounding only got more insistent.
Anger is good, she thought, as she stomped over to the door to fling it open, yelling, "What the fuck is your problem?"
"You are." Hickory Woods pushed her back into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
"What are you doing up here?" She hated the panic that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her, as she felt his raw anger wash over her in waves. "Why aren't you still on the stage? With the band?"
"Why the hell are you with him?" His anger, made the room feel cramped. "I thought you said you couldn't be seen in public with celebrities like me. In you stroll with him, the current flavor of the month, and I had to watch him groping you?" He loomed dangerously over her.
She backed away from him, to find herself trapped by the wall-to-wall counter of the sink behind her. "That's none of your business." She was aware of how vulnerable her voice sounded, but not able to get it under control yet.
"Just like your leaving me in Berlin was none of my business?" His face was dark, and his voice dripped with scorn and anger. "You never told me what your business is. At this point, I'm guessing high-class hooker. Was I a freebie, or are you just behind in your billing?"
"Cory, just let me leave, and forget about me, okay?" She tried not to sound like she was pleading. She had spent years perfecting how to order men around, but right at this moment, she would have begged if it would get her away from this man she still wanted so much, but had hurt so badly.
His eyes were wild as he pushed forward with his hips, to trap her between the sink counter and the unmistakable bulge in his pants. "I can’t forget about you, damn it! That's the problem. You're in my blood. I want you so bad I can taste it!" His hands grabbed her urgently, and he ran them along her naked back, down to the cleft in her behind, watching his hands move in the mirror behind her. He gripped her hips and ground himself into her. With a groan, he moved one hand up to grab her hair and force her face up to accept his kiss, a punishing battering of her lips with his.
She cried out from the pain of her hair being twisted around his hand, and he forced his tongue into her mouth and laid claim to her, despite her objections. Gasping, she tried to push him away, but since she didn't want to actually hurt him, she couldn't use any of the skills she had honed over the years. And the truth was that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her hands crept up along his back as she leaned into him, pressing herself against him with strength of passion equal to his own.
He groaned again, as he became aware that she had stopped denying him.
She jumped at the sound of someone pounding on the bathroom door. "It's occupied." She shouted loudly, hoping to get them to go away.
After a short pause, the pounding started again.
"Go away! Find another bathroom!" She yelled louder, starting to channel her emotional upheaval into the safety of controlled anger, which instantly made her feel calmer and more herself.
The pounding only got more insistent.
Anger is good, she thought, as she stomped over to the door to fling it open, yelling, "What the fuck is your problem?"
"You are." Hickory Woods pushed her back into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
"What are you doing up here?" She hated the panic that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her, as she felt his raw anger wash over her in waves. "Why aren't you still on the stage? With the band?"
"Why the hell are you with him?" His anger, made the room feel cramped. "I thought you said you couldn't be seen in public with celebrities like me. In you stroll with him, the current flavor of the month, and I had to watch him groping you?" He loomed dangerously over her.
She backed away from him, to find herself trapped by the wall-to-wall counter of the sink behind her. "That's none of your business." She was aware of how vulnerable her voice sounded, but not able to get it under control yet.
"Just like your leaving me in Berlin was none of my business?" His face was dark, and his voice dripped with scorn and anger. "You never told me what your business is. At this point, I'm guessing high-class hooker. Was I a freebie, or are you just behind in your billing?"
"Cory, just let me leave, and forget about me, okay?" She tried not to sound like she was pleading. She had spent years perfecting how to order men around, but right at this moment, she would have begged if it would get her away from this man she still wanted so much, but had hurt so badly.
His eyes were wild as he pushed forward with his hips, to trap her between the sink counter and the unmistakable bulge in his pants. "I can’t forget about you, damn it! That's the problem. You're in my blood. I want you so bad I can taste it!" His hands grabbed her urgently, and he ran them along her naked back, down to the cleft in her behind, watching his hands move in the mirror behind her. He gripped her hips and ground himself into her. With a groan, he moved one hand up to grab her hair and force her face up to accept his kiss, a punishing battering of her lips with his.
She cried out from the pain of her hair being twisted around his hand, and he forced his tongue into her mouth and laid claim to her, despite her objections. Gasping, she tried to push him away, but since she didn't want to actually hurt him, she couldn't use any of the skills she had honed over the years. And the truth was that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her hands crept up along his back as she leaned into him, pressing herself against him with strength of passion equal to his own.
He groaned again, as he became aware that she had stopped denying him.
Prize One:
Prize Two:
Prize Three:
Prize Four:
TO ENTER:
1. Comment below on what your favorite part of the sneak peek was?
2. Have you read Fiona McGier before?
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.
There are 14 posts during the week. Each comment will be 1 entry for the prize of the Amazon Fire 7 tablet
Next contest list, click to enter:
Lesbian Love Post 6pm
Jay Hogan Post 8am
Cara Dee Post 2pm
End Post 8am
Lesbian Love Post 6pm
Jay Hogan Post 8am
Cara Dee Post 2pm
End Post 8am
 | She’d slept in, got covered in mud, almost set fire to the ladies' room, and then lost her job. So what else could happen? Mia Bruce, 54, couldn't believe how bad her day started out but that chain of events led to something amazing—she started her own business! Karl Miller, 55, multi-millionaire, business owner and bisexual partner to Liam, couldn't believe his eyes when he found the half-naked staff member in the ladies' room. Instead of a fire in the bathroom, he found a fire in his heart. Liam Kelly, 53, world-renowned artist, and |
Karl's life partner, meets Mia on the worst day of her life. He's smitten as much as Karl. Now all the two men have to do is convince Mia she needs two men in her life. Seems easy?
No. Not when she dislikes Karl at first sight.
Be Warned: menage sex (MMF), m/m sex, spanking
No. Not when she dislikes Karl at first sight.
Be Warned: menage sex (MMF), m/m sex, spanking
Sneak Peek:
Mia Bruce’s day simply went from bad to worse.
To start with, somehow, she’d set the wrong button on her alarm and it woke her at four in the morning instead of seven. When Mia fell back to sleep after resetting it, she slept through three snooze buttons and ended up doing a mad dash to shower, dress, and then race for the bus.
Thinking the worst was over, she got off the bus alongside the large construction site opposite the huge office building where she worked for General Finance Corp. Unfortunately, it had rained heavily overnight and, as the bus pulled away, it drove through a large mud-filled puddle of run-off and soil from the dirty building site. One side of her dress from hip to hem, as well as her legs and shoes, were soaked with dirty brown water and soiled with large clumps of sticky brown mud.
Fuck! Can today get any worse?
“Probably,” she muttered while trying to brush off the worst of the mud. She thought about going back home but today was an important one at work so instead, after sighing, she climbed the steps to the front doors. A very dirty and angry Mia stomped into the office building then entered the elevator and jabbed the button for her floor. Two minutes to nine.
“Yay, made it on time,” she sneered, her voice full of sarcasm as she took the elevator to the thirtieth floor.
Today, the new regime began. The company had been sold to Tower Financials and rumors were rife there were going to be a lot of layoffs. Mia was the assistant to the big boss’s PA—a sort of PA’s A. The PA, Liz Chambers, dealt with the higher-ups while Mia dealt with the lower-downs. Liz’s office was in the breathtaking area with the bosses while hers was downstairs with the minions. Still, she liked the work and the company, having worked for them for the past fifteen years, and Liz was a great friend as well as her immediate supervisor.
Quickly throwing her bag into her bottom drawer when she was in her office, Mia surveyed the damage to her clothes. Damn. The mud and slush on one side stood out against the blue of her dress. Her legs hadn’t fared much better and her shoes were caked. She’d have to try to wash out the worst of the mud, especially knowing she’d have to face the new regime leaders. After making sure there was nothing urgent for her to deal with immediately, she raced into the ladies’ room. If she were quick, she should be able to clean up in fifteen minutes. The easiest thing to do would be to take the dress off, wash the muddy parts, and then dry it under the hand-dryer. And that was exactly what Mia did. Too bad if any of the girls came in. She needed the dress reasonably clean and dry.
Drying it was tricky, but apart from the hand-dryer overheating and smelling quite a bit, she managed to get the iris-blue dress dry. Now for her legs and shoes. Draping the now-dry dress over the paper towel dispenser, she washed her shoes and slipped them back on. Using dozens of sheets of wet paper, Mia began washing her legs. Bending over, her back to the door, dressed in just her shoes, red lacy panties, and matching bra, Mia heard the door open and groaned. Probably Tracy from the typing pool. She seemed to always be in the bathroom. There was a soft cough but she ignored her and finished washing her legs until she heard a much louder, deeper, cough. Looking around her legs without bothering to stand up, she got the shock of her life.
Casually leaning against the wall, arms folded and one leg crossed over the other with the toes balancing him, was a hunk. A fire extinguisher sat at his feet. She stood quickly and faced him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in here? Get out!”
To start with, somehow, she’d set the wrong button on her alarm and it woke her at four in the morning instead of seven. When Mia fell back to sleep after resetting it, she slept through three snooze buttons and ended up doing a mad dash to shower, dress, and then race for the bus.
Thinking the worst was over, she got off the bus alongside the large construction site opposite the huge office building where she worked for General Finance Corp. Unfortunately, it had rained heavily overnight and, as the bus pulled away, it drove through a large mud-filled puddle of run-off and soil from the dirty building site. One side of her dress from hip to hem, as well as her legs and shoes, were soaked with dirty brown water and soiled with large clumps of sticky brown mud.
Fuck! Can today get any worse?
“Probably,” she muttered while trying to brush off the worst of the mud. She thought about going back home but today was an important one at work so instead, after sighing, she climbed the steps to the front doors. A very dirty and angry Mia stomped into the office building then entered the elevator and jabbed the button for her floor. Two minutes to nine.
“Yay, made it on time,” she sneered, her voice full of sarcasm as she took the elevator to the thirtieth floor.
Today, the new regime began. The company had been sold to Tower Financials and rumors were rife there were going to be a lot of layoffs. Mia was the assistant to the big boss’s PA—a sort of PA’s A. The PA, Liz Chambers, dealt with the higher-ups while Mia dealt with the lower-downs. Liz’s office was in the breathtaking area with the bosses while hers was downstairs with the minions. Still, she liked the work and the company, having worked for them for the past fifteen years, and Liz was a great friend as well as her immediate supervisor.
Quickly throwing her bag into her bottom drawer when she was in her office, Mia surveyed the damage to her clothes. Damn. The mud and slush on one side stood out against the blue of her dress. Her legs hadn’t fared much better and her shoes were caked. She’d have to try to wash out the worst of the mud, especially knowing she’d have to face the new regime leaders. After making sure there was nothing urgent for her to deal with immediately, she raced into the ladies’ room. If she were quick, she should be able to clean up in fifteen minutes. The easiest thing to do would be to take the dress off, wash the muddy parts, and then dry it under the hand-dryer. And that was exactly what Mia did. Too bad if any of the girls came in. She needed the dress reasonably clean and dry.
Drying it was tricky, but apart from the hand-dryer overheating and smelling quite a bit, she managed to get the iris-blue dress dry. Now for her legs and shoes. Draping the now-dry dress over the paper towel dispenser, she washed her shoes and slipped them back on. Using dozens of sheets of wet paper, Mia began washing her legs. Bending over, her back to the door, dressed in just her shoes, red lacy panties, and matching bra, Mia heard the door open and groaned. Probably Tracy from the typing pool. She seemed to always be in the bathroom. There was a soft cough but she ignored her and finished washing her legs until she heard a much louder, deeper, cough. Looking around her legs without bothering to stand up, she got the shock of her life.
Casually leaning against the wall, arms folded and one leg crossed over the other with the toes balancing him, was a hunk. A fire extinguisher sat at his feet. She stood quickly and faced him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in here? Get out!”
Prize One:
Prize Two:
Prize Three:
Prize Four:
TO ENTER:
1. Comment below on what your favorite part of the sneak peek was?
2. Have you read Suzy Shearer before?
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.
There are 14 posts during the week. Each comment will be 1 entry for the prize of the Amazon Fire 7 tablet
Next contest list, click to enter:
Fiona Mcgier Post 2pm
Lesbian Love Post 6pm
Jay Hogan Post 8am
Cara Dee Post 2pm
End Post 8am
Fiona Mcgier Post 2pm
Lesbian Love Post 6pm
Jay Hogan Post 8am
Cara Dee Post 2pm
End Post 8am
 | Half Man. Half Machine. All Hers. Rage, the Humanoid Alliance's most primitive cyborg, has two goals--kill all of the humans on his battle station and escape to the Homeland. The warrior has seen the darkness in others and in himself. He believes that's all he's been programmed to experience. Until he meets Joan. Joan, the battle station's first female engineer, has one goal--survive long enough to help the big sexy cyborg plotting to kill her. Rage might not trust her but |
he wants her. She sees the passion in his eyes, the caring in his battle-worn hands, the gruff emotion in his voice.
When Joan survives the unthinkable, Rage's priorities are tested. Is there enough room in this cyborg's heart for both love and revenge?
When Joan survives the unthinkable, Rage's priorities are tested. Is there enough room in this cyborg's heart for both love and revenge?
Sneak Peek:
He turned his head, locked his gaze with hers and she sucked in her breath. There were worlds of agony, of rage, in those bright blue eyes. This was no rational, logic-driven cyborg. This was a man, an animal, crazed by bloodlust and pain.
“They thought to pacify me with the use of a human female?” he thundered, his deep gravelly voice clawing across her skin, awakening parts in her she didn’t realize slept. “I’d kill you before I allowed you to touch me.”
This insult didn’t hurt her the way he’d intended. Joan knew she wasn’t the slim tiny female males desired. She was solidly built, good breeding stock, as her mother had once said.
She discarded his words and focused on the torment in his tones. He hurt. Horrifically. Her fingers twitched, the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him, tremendous. Judging by the flex of his powerful biceps and thigh muscles, by the anger radiating from him, he wouldn’t appreciate that response.
He also wouldn’t listen to any command she issued. A reprimand, verbal or physical, would add to his hostility. Some being had already tried to restrain him and failed. The reportedly unbreakable wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the frame of the uploading dock had been shattered, rendered useless.
Joan discarded four solar cycles’ worth of theory on how to handle malfunctioning cyborgs, realizing now that the academy experts knew nothing.
Her late father, however, had taught her how to deal with wild beasts.
“I would never touch you without your permission.” She lowered her gaze, showing submission, recognizing C899321 as the dominant male he was. He’d seek to harm any aggressor, to protect himself and his territory. If she wasn’t female, she suspected she’d already be dead.
“I also would never hurt you.” Joan stuffed a couple of cleaning cloths into her pockets and dropped to her knees, into a puddle of red. The moisture soaked through her flight suit. “I’m here to serve you, to clean you.”
“They thought to pacify me with the use of a human female?” he thundered, his deep gravelly voice clawing across her skin, awakening parts in her she didn’t realize slept. “I’d kill you before I allowed you to touch me.”
This insult didn’t hurt her the way he’d intended. Joan knew she wasn’t the slim tiny female males desired. She was solidly built, good breeding stock, as her mother had once said.
She discarded his words and focused on the torment in his tones. He hurt. Horrifically. Her fingers twitched, the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him, tremendous. Judging by the flex of his powerful biceps and thigh muscles, by the anger radiating from him, he wouldn’t appreciate that response.
He also wouldn’t listen to any command she issued. A reprimand, verbal or physical, would add to his hostility. Some being had already tried to restrain him and failed. The reportedly unbreakable wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the frame of the uploading dock had been shattered, rendered useless.
Joan discarded four solar cycles’ worth of theory on how to handle malfunctioning cyborgs, realizing now that the academy experts knew nothing.
Her late father, however, had taught her how to deal with wild beasts.
“I would never touch you without your permission.” She lowered her gaze, showing submission, recognizing C899321 as the dominant male he was. He’d seek to harm any aggressor, to protect himself and his territory. If she wasn’t female, she suspected she’d already be dead.
“I also would never hurt you.” Joan stuffed a couple of cleaning cloths into her pockets and dropped to her knees, into a puddle of red. The moisture soaked through her flight suit. “I’m here to serve you, to clean you.”
Prize One:
Prize Two:
Prize Three:
TO ENTER:
1. Comment below on what your favorite part of the sneak peek was?
2. Have you read Cynthia Sax before?
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.
There are 14 posts during the week. Each comment will be 1 entry for the prize of the Amazon Fire 7 tablet
Next contest list, click to enter:
Suzy Shearer Post 8am
Fiona Mcgier Post 2pm
Lesbian Love Post 6pm
Jay Hogan Post 8am
Cara Dee Post 2pm
End Post 8am
Suzy Shearer Post 8am
Fiona Mcgier Post 2pm
Lesbian Love Post 6pm
Jay Hogan Post 8am
Cara Dee Post 2pm
End Post 8am
 | Friends since childhood, Albuquerque detective Eagle Woodard and criminal profiler Adam Coulter are dragged into a serial killer case. Gay couples are being murdered and tortured and the FBI needs their help to capture the sadistic murderer. Deciding to implement a plan to trap the killer, Adam and Eagle go undercover as an involved gay couple. Or is it really pretend? Faced with their toughest challenge yet, they must find the active serial killer before he strikes again. With the powers that be not cooperating and the killer proving to be elusive, will Eagle and Adam be able to stop the murderer while navigating their changing relationship? |
Sneak Peek:
Outside 221 Pender, Rick Kessler flashed his I.D. at the first officer to step forward. One of San Diego’s finest took a cursory glance at the wallet and the man before lifting the yellow crime scene tape and waving him through. He pointed out a rumpled suited man standing to the left of the house talking with the FBI’s forensics team. As Kessler approached, Borkowski nodded to the group, separating from them.
“No one heard or saw anything, I suppose?”
Borkowski laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Do they ever? I mean, I got nothing against fags, present company included, but nobody deserves to go like this. This guy’s a real Marky de Sod.”
“Marquis de Sade?” Kessler smiled at the “Jersey” coming through in his partner’s accent.
“Hey, I read.” Borkowski defended himself. “Contrary to popular belief.”
Kessler grimaced. Sometimes it was difficult to tell when his partner was joking and when he was being serious. This time he decided to err on the side of caution.
“Yeah, tell me about it, but be careful with the fag word, okay? I don’t take offense, but some reporter could hear you. Another suspension would not be good. Your sweet wife, Millie, needs you working, man, and money’s tight, right?”
Borkowski frowned and shrugged. “Yeah, sorry, when you’re right, you’re right. Millie would kill me if I got suspended again.” The older man’s mouth had been the bane of his existence. Despite being a brilliant investigator, this was one of the major reasons he didn’t move up the management ladder. He had the seniority, but not the drive. He didn’t suffer fools and he was famous for letting others know what he thought.
Kessler glanced at the house. His team, already inside, would confirm this crime scene’s connection to the other four. Kessler tried to dislodge his memories of this killer’s first known crime scene. The brutality that made him lose his breakfast could still make him nauseous. He hadn’t done anything like that since he was a rookie.
“So…what’s our next step?” Borkowski looked at his partner.
“Let’s suit up and work the scene, then I’m on a flight to Albuquerque in…,” He checked his phone, “four hours. I think a small window of opportunity might be opening up for us to catch this bastard.”
The younger agent turned his back to the gathering crowd of police mixed with a few journalists and gawkers. “If I’m right, I’ll set some bait this guy won’t be able to resist.”
Borkowski raised an eyebrow, impressed with his blond, Ivy League partner. Rumor had it that Kessler was on the fast track to becoming Bureau Chief. That was one of the reasons he had agreed to partner with the younger agent. By allowing Kessler to take the lead in this serial killer case they might both get what they wanted. He understood Bureau politics. If Kessler succeeded in capturing this elusive interstate killer, he was confident Kessler would give him a cushy administrative job for his remaining years with the FBI. If the younger agent failed, Kessler would take the fall and he’d be no worse off.
“No one heard or saw anything, I suppose?”
Borkowski laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Do they ever? I mean, I got nothing against fags, present company included, but nobody deserves to go like this. This guy’s a real Marky de Sod.”
“Marquis de Sade?” Kessler smiled at the “Jersey” coming through in his partner’s accent.
“Hey, I read.” Borkowski defended himself. “Contrary to popular belief.”
Kessler grimaced. Sometimes it was difficult to tell when his partner was joking and when he was being serious. This time he decided to err on the side of caution.
“Yeah, tell me about it, but be careful with the fag word, okay? I don’t take offense, but some reporter could hear you. Another suspension would not be good. Your sweet wife, Millie, needs you working, man, and money’s tight, right?”
Borkowski frowned and shrugged. “Yeah, sorry, when you’re right, you’re right. Millie would kill me if I got suspended again.” The older man’s mouth had been the bane of his existence. Despite being a brilliant investigator, this was one of the major reasons he didn’t move up the management ladder. He had the seniority, but not the drive. He didn’t suffer fools and he was famous for letting others know what he thought.
Kessler glanced at the house. His team, already inside, would confirm this crime scene’s connection to the other four. Kessler tried to dislodge his memories of this killer’s first known crime scene. The brutality that made him lose his breakfast could still make him nauseous. He hadn’t done anything like that since he was a rookie.
“So…what’s our next step?” Borkowski looked at his partner.
“Let’s suit up and work the scene, then I’m on a flight to Albuquerque in…,” He checked his phone, “four hours. I think a small window of opportunity might be opening up for us to catch this bastard.”
The younger agent turned his back to the gathering crowd of police mixed with a few journalists and gawkers. “If I’m right, I’ll set some bait this guy won’t be able to resist.”
Borkowski raised an eyebrow, impressed with his blond, Ivy League partner. Rumor had it that Kessler was on the fast track to becoming Bureau Chief. That was one of the reasons he had agreed to partner with the younger agent. By allowing Kessler to take the lead in this serial killer case they might both get what they wanted. He understood Bureau politics. If Kessler succeeded in capturing this elusive interstate killer, he was confident Kessler would give him a cushy administrative job for his remaining years with the FBI. If the younger agent failed, Kessler would take the fall and he’d be no worse off.
Prize One:
Prize Two:
Prize Three:
TO ENTER:
1. Comment below on what your favorite part of the sneak peek was?
2. Have you read MJ Calabrese before?
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.
There are 14 posts during the week. Each comment will be 1 entry for the prize of the Amazon Fire 7 tablet
Next contest list, click to enter:
Cynthia Sax Post 2pm
Suzy Shearer Post 8am
Fiona Mcgier Post 2pm
Lesbian Love Post 6pm
Jay Hogan Post 8am
Cara Dee Post 2pm
End Post 8am
Cynthia Sax Post 2pm
Suzy Shearer Post 8am
Fiona Mcgier Post 2pm
Lesbian Love Post 6pm
Jay Hogan Post 8am
Cara Dee Post 2pm
End Post 8am
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Jacob was targeted for vengeance leads them down a dangerous path and brings Eden into the line of fire of a desperate man
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