he’ll do anything to have her, including pressuring her to marry him in exchange for saving her parent’s church from being bulldozed. Blackmail might be a sin, but Andrew will have to atone for his transgressions later. Ever the dutiful daughter, Charmeine sacrifices herself and reluctantly agrees to marry Andrew. Can she survive at the mercy of the man who captured her heart against her will? - SNEAK PEEK -Riley placed four dresses on Charmeine’s bed and turned to her, flashing a dazzling smile. “Did you think I was taking you to Applebee’s or something? We’re going to celebrate right—at Absolution.” Charmeine’s stomach roiled, and her pulse quickened. Absolution was an exclusive chain of nightclubs owned by long time parishioners and brothers Andrew and Simon Knight. Their grandparents Edna and Barry had raised them after the brothers’ parents had died in a tragic car accident three years before Charmeine was born. It aggravated her to no end that parishioners who became successful, abandoned Melrose Park for greener pastures, more affluent suburbs, or even left the state altogether. The moment Andrew and Simon became well-off, they’d hightailed it to a gated community in Hinsdale, taking their grandparents with them. Andrew and Simon dutifully brought their grandparents to services nearly every Sunday, but Charmeine felt they threw their wealth in everyone’s face with their generous tithes. Their church’s congregation consisted of primarily moderate income and blue collar workers. It didn’t help that for some inexplicable reason she was attracted to the elder Knight brother Andrew. The thirty-seven-year-old entrepreneur with thick, inky black hair, dark chocolate colored eyes, and over six foot tall muscular frame lit Charmeine up with burning, urgent need against her will. Andrew reminded Charmeine of the first apostle Andrew. He was the serious brother. Responsible, organized, ambitious and the visionary behind Knight Brothers Enterprises. Yet, despite his many admirable qualities, she despised everything he stood for. “Can we go somewhere else, please?” Charmeine pushed aside the thrill that charged through her at the thought of seeing Andrew at Absolution, rather than at church. He was a temptation she needed to steer clear of. Riley placed her hands on her hips and glared at Charmeine. “You really want to go somewhere else? You don’t want to see Andrew if he’s there?” Charmeine scoffed and rolled her eyes. “So he can throw his success and money in our faces more than he already does? Proverbs says riches do not profit in the day of wrath, but righteousness delivers from death.” Riley sighed. “And Proverbs also says honor the Lord with your wealth and with the first fruits of all your produce. They’ve worked hard for their success and they give generously. They’re successful businessmen with a lot to lose. They were smart to move into a gated community and you know it.” Charmeine supposed that was true, although she didn’t know from personal experience what it was like to be rich. A pastor’s salary was far from an amount that would make anyone wealthy, and her parents donated much of their income to the church and various charitable causes. She threw her hands up in surrender. “Okay, you win. But maybe you need to admit you want to see Simon.” Simon Knight was outgoing, an optimist, impulsive at times, but also kind, just as the apostle Simon Peter was described. He was as good looking as Andrew, with softer facial features, and nearly as tall. From what Charmeine could decipher though, he was also a ladies’ man. A pretty blush stained Riley’s cheeks, and she shrugged. “I wouldn’t be disappointed if he was at the Hinsdale club. But enough about the Knight brothers, let’s get you dressed. Tonight is all about you.” - Prize One -- Prize Two -To ENTER you MUST comment below:
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- SNEAK PEEK -Luke undid his belt and stood up. Coburn watched as the sexy fucker took off his shoes, socks and finally his pants. That gorgeous dick bounced free and the smear at the tip told Coburn just how much Luke enjoyed sucking him off. Well, that feeling was very fucking mutual. But Coburn didn’t want to do this standing up. He grabbed Luke’s arm and directed him to the couch, then Coburn shifted to his knees. It was a thrill when he slid his hands up Luke’s hairy thighs and parted his legs. “By the way, it was phenomenal.” Luke snorted. “Good. You were about to hurt my feelings.” Coburn grinned and wrapped his hand around Luke’s shaft. “Prepare to be reciprocated with that phenomenal-ness. And yes, I know that’s probably not a word.” “Well, right now, I’m not really caring about words.” Luke’s head fell back. Coburn pressed kisses on each thigh, slowly leading up to that hard, long cock begging for attention. He stroked the length once, twice and on the third lowered so he could lick Luke’s balls. Easy, tentative touches with the tip of his tongue had Luke shifting his hips upward. “Like that, do you?” Luke groaned. Coburn lapped at Luke’s big hairy balls, swirling and sucking gently on his sacks. He rubbed the tip of Luke’s dick with his palm as he made wet designs with his tongue. When Luke started squirming and grabbing the couch cushion, Coburn gave the man a break. He moved on to that red tinted tip. Coburn couldn’t wait to taste him. The moment the salty pre-cum was on his tongue, he smiled. “Mmm.” “I’m about a second away from having a heart attack and you’re saying Mmmm?” Luke said, sounding flustered and overwhelmed. Good. Coburn chuckled but gave in. He wrapped his mouth around the beautiful shaft and then moved his hand to Luke’s balls. With a hard suck, he gently massaged. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Luke shouted and thrust his hips up. Coburn would have laughed if his mouth wasn’t full. He sucked again with the ball massage and this time added a tongue flick at the end. Luke groaned loudly and tightened his grip on the couch. The next suck Coburn rubbed his soft cock against Luke’s leg. He was still enjoying the sensation, even though he wasn’t hard. Luke muttered something unintelligible. “Oh, yeah?” Coburn asked amused and then gave Luke’s dick another suck-massage. He opened wide as that salty sperm sprayed into his mouth. Coburn quickly swallowed, still stimulating those big balls as Luke thrust and sputtered. When his cock stopped spewing and his hips returned to the couch, Luke opened his eyes to stare at Coburn. “I don’t know if I should say thanks or dear God, please do it again.” Luke rubbed his hand through Coburn’s hair. “I have money. I could pay you to come over every night and suck my dick,” he joked. “Isn’t that romantic,” Coburn said it with a smile. “And you damn well know prostitution is illegal and disgusting.” “Agreed.” Luke slid his fingers along Coburn’s jaw then rubbed at the wet spot under Coburn’s eye. Cum? “Plus, you couldn’t afford me.” Coburn planted a kiss on Luke’s knee. “There’s also the whole murder investigation thing—oh my God.” He leaned back, shocked at the revelation that had just popped into his head. “The cum in his eye!” Luke sat up. “What? I feel like I’m missing something here. Something important. How’d we go from a nice after-orgasm talk about prostitution to cum in your eye?” “His eye. Pat.” “The case.” Luke shifted to the edge of couch, oblivious of the tempting soft cock dangling within reach. Coburn couldn’t think with his dick right now. “I know who framed me.” - Prize One -- Prize Two -To ENTER you MUST comment below:
- SNEAK PEEK -“Good morning, sweetheart.” He brushed some hair off her face and felt the surge of blood rush to his cock. “And before you ask, yes, I looked. Don’t know what you’re worried about. You got the best-looking tits here.” She rolled her eyes and tried not to smile. “Well, gee, thanks.” He flicked her nose. “I’m serious.” Very serious. The way she looked at him was intense. Was she feeling this too? Maybe it was just waking up mostly naked that had her like this. “Amena.” He licked his lips. “I’m not sorry I peeked.” “You’re impossible.” She giggled. “Really, you are.” “Then divorce me.” She snorted and her head lolled to the side to stare at him. “I wouldn’t mind seeing them again, though.” “Get out of here. You should be focusing on finding a way out of…” He kissed her. Fuck it. If he was going to die, he wanted to at least know what it was like to kiss her. The moment their mouths met it was like fireworks. Her lips parted and he took control, sending his tongue over her teeth. There were no words, just soft moans and heavy breathing. He was stunned when she didn’t pull away but kissed him back. It seemed to last forever, and it was still not long enough. He eased back and stared down at her. Those green eyes were wide, and she touched her lips gently with one finger. “You kissed me,” she whispered. “You kissed me back.” Okay, not the best argument there, but he wasn’t thinking straight. All his blood was rushing between his legs to give him an erection. His cock pressed against the fabric of his cloth, and even that was like a stroking finger. Peter reached out and took her hand. He watched her face as he kissed her palm. If she showed even a hint of uncertainty, he’d stop. He didn’t want to scare her just … kiss her again. Everywhere. Peter kissed her forearm and tugged ever so gently until her arms shifted and he could see a breast. “Told you they were beautiful.” She swallowed hard. Peter dragged his fingertips down her arm, across her side, and up. He touched the underside first. They were just enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Peter spread his fingers and laid them over her right tit. Amena inhaled sharply. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, giving her an out. God, he hoped she didn’t say yes. He circled his hand, her nipple poking at his palm. “Just say the word.” His voice dropped. He moved his hand and used his middle finger to circle her hardened tip. She didn’t say a damn thing. - Prize One -- Prize Two -- Prize Three -To ENTER you MUST comment below:
- SNEAK PEEK -Fergus liked to think that spending a couple of years away from the swirl of royal duties on The Isle of Alba would be good for him. It’d at least been relaxing. He eyed his door. Molly North wasn’t the tiniest bit relaxing. He had the notion she never did anything by halves. That included flirting. As a Prince, he was used to people making a fuss over him, though it’d been impossible to tell if the person was more into his string of titles, the power he’d one day wield, his bank accounts, or any one of the other things that’d defined him since his birth. Molly had only seen the slightly awkward fellow from 3a, with hair that needed a trim and clothes that probably wouldn’t stand up to being tailored, which meant she was interested in him. What a terrifying thought. He might as well get this over with. Fergus had faced much worse things than a smart, gorgeous woman at five in the morning. He checked the peephole like he always did—there’d been a lot of intense training after the Marseilles incident—making sure it was clear. The hallway was empty. He exited, locked his door, and strode over to 3b, knocking forcefully. Nothing happened. He knocked again. After a second, there was muffled cursing and the door opened. Sleepy eyes blinked at him. “Huh?” Molly mumbled, though she must have been already up, since she had a t-shirt, jeans, and one sock on. Its match dangled from her fingers. Her dark brown hair sat piled on her head, more a rat’s nest than a bun. She looked adorable. “Good morning,” he said, striving for extra cheeriness. He couldn’t help it. Molly obviously was not a morning person, which meant she’d hate that he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. There were endless opportunities for teasing ahead. He cracked his knuckles. Molly blinked, yawned, and wandered back into her apartment. He crossed his arms, biting back a grin as she stared at the floor. “Can I help you?” he asked after a moment. This was too much fun. “I’m looking for my other sock.” “Have you tried your left hand?” She blearily held it up. “Ah, there you are.” A few hopping steps later and she had it on. It took her two tries to get her feet jammed into her trainers, but then she was pushing past him into the hallway, muttering something about ‘too early’. Fergus followed her down the stairs. Fergus could just hear the lecture Pike would launch into about his new neighbor. His head of security, who’d followed Fergus to Seattle out of some misguided sense of loyalty, had threatened to personally gut Fergus if he dared to get too close to someone. Pike trusted nobody, for good reason, even someone as obviously non-threatening as Molly. Fergus simply couldn’t fathom her being a honeypot sent to tempt secrets out of him. Mostly because she was too perfect. The sots behind the kidnapping attempts would send someone much more obvious, never knowing that his tastes ran to the brainy. Though Molly’s tits did make him suspicious, they looked like they’d fit in his hand with a little leftover. Just the way he liked. Not that he was looking at Molly’s breasts, only her arse because she walked slightly in front of him down the stairs. Generous hips, lush backside—maybe the bastards were hoping he’d perish of thwarted lust. He needed to get control of himself. There were biscuits to make, dough to shape into croissants, and coffee makers that needed to be running. Fergus let them into The Good Bean. When he flipped on the overhead lights, Molly groaned and closed her eyes. “Who invented switches,” she sighed. “Because screw them.” - Prize One -- Prize Two -- Prize Three -To ENTER you MUST comment below:
circumstances, had to be simple-minded. What did he care? Pay her off and be rid of her, but the woman and circumstances kept driving him back. When he discovered his actions resulted in her pregnancy, and her husband divorcing her for refusing to abort his baby, Drew proposed and bullied her into a marriage of convenience, to give the child his name his only reason. After being branded a bastard by the man he meant to destroy, he swore no child of his would suffer the label. Even after her raving ex-husband warns that she isn’t normal, that she’s a witch who makes bad things happen to get even with people, he goes back. He didn’t believe it or credit it to the house burning down or his plane crashing. Was she the naïve, submissive mouse she seemed? A witch casting spells to keep him going back? Was her aim revenge or was she just a greedy, dangerous woman who found out he had millions? Would he survive to destroy his father or discover how deadly sweet, bland Letitia could be? - SNEAK PEEK -Booths lined one wall, tables sat in front of the windows, and a counter ran along the back. Only two of three booths were filled. At the first one, the old biddies from before were avidly tearing someone apart. Drew took the empty booth in the back corner and read the menu, trying to curb his impatience and ignore the women. “Why else would she be riding in this kind of weather if not to lose it?” “She rides all the time, Hazel,” a younger woman stated. With a snort, Hazel continued. “Not with the snow threatening to come down. I tell you, she’s trying to lose it, and why wouldn’t she? Who would want the child of a rapist?” “She could have done that legally.” “Why didn’t she? Poor Eddie begged and pleaded for her to get an abortion. No wonder he got that quickie divorce.” Drew ground his teeth with the desire to choke Hazel. “Abortion is murder,” another, older woman, said in a harsh whisper. “So is deliberately causing a miscarriage.” “Doctors say it’s all right to ride,” another said. “They told my Emmy to keep on, as long as it didn’t cause her discomfort.” “Nonsense, a woman wasn’t made to be astride a horse while she’s carrying. Mark my words, she’ll lose it if she doesn’t stop this nonsense. I can’t say I blame her. I know I wouldn’t want a bastard beget by a rapist.” Drew shot to his feet. The women glanced up as he stomped out of the café, slamming the door behind him. His temper hadn’t cooled in the slightest before Letitia finally returned home, on foot, looking like a beggar in a ragged coat, worn jeans, and scuffed, wet boots. Her look of surprise at seeing him pacing her porch was replaced with dread as he bore down on her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded. “Why did you leave it up to a bunch of evil mouthed bitches in a café to let me know?” “Know what?” she asked in a tired voice. He nearly shouted, “Are you pregnant?” “Yes, I—” “Is it mine?” “Yes, I—” “God damn you, that’s no reason to murder it!” “Murder?” She took a step back, her hand resting on her stomach. “What are you talking about?” “It seems to be common knowledge that you’re deliberately trying to kill a rapist’s baby. Why the hell didn’t you just abort it when poor Eddie begged you to?” She stood up straight, all five-foot-seven inches of her. “I think you better leave.” “You’re not going to murder that baby. I’ll find some way to stop you.” He grabbed her by the hand and dragged her behind him. She was so stunned they reached the car before she struggled to free herself. “What are you doing?” “Get in.” He flung the car door open and pushed her in. “You shouldn’t do this,” she stated in her usual passive tone. “I’m going to marry you.” - Prize One -- Prize Two -- Prize Three -To ENTER you MUST comment below: Welcome to Contemporary Romance Week! We're celebrating all things sweet and sexy. We want to thank all the authors that have joined us to bring together some AMAZING prizes! There are 15 posts this week. Each post has there own prize but each comment will be one entry into our big prize of the $50 Amazon Gift Card! Keep updated on our next contest via Facebook HERE. Let's get this party started! - Prize One - Book mask and quitter mug. Worldwide delivery - Prize Two -TO ENTER: Recommend a contemporary romance book to us and tell us why you recommended it! (any genre, please do not recommend your own books) For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below. Good luck! Our next contest will be HERE at 2 pm
- Deadly Precious by Larion Wills - 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 contemporary genre (any pairing welcome) Fee: Free 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 contemporary genre (any pairing welcome) Self-published accepted. Multiple excerpts accepted. FEE: $15 via PayPal per excerpt. ONLY 2 SPOTS LEFT 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. Any pairing welcome. FEE: $10 via PayPal per cover. ONLY 3 SPOTS LEFT 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. We also have the book mask and 'bookmarks are for quitters' mug as a prize). 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: [email protected] You must book your spot by: Nov 1stWe'd like to thank all the authors that participated in Contemporary Romance Week! We'd also like to thank everyone who entered the contests but since you're all here for the winners list.... Click your name and you can see what you've won! Beginning Post: |
When Veronica Campbell agrees to take her sister’s place at a murder mystery weekend getaway, she has no idea what’s in store. The events at the mountaintop lodge get off to a good start, especially when she meets Adam, the handsome man staying in the room next door. By the end of the first night, however, the role-playing games take a dark turn when one of the participants is killed for real. Violent storms and sabotaged cars trap the guests at the lodge with no escape. Frightened and surrounded by strangers, she not only has to stay on guard against the danger that lurks in every corner, but fight her attraction to her sexy neighbor. |
One by one, the murderer picks off each guest as the storm rages around them. The number of suspects grows smaller, and soon, the moment of truth arrives. Can she trust Adam, or has she wound up in the arms of a killer?
- SNEAK PEEK -
I wanted to laugh, but I was exhausted and frustrated with him, perhaps irrationally. “Why?” I said, my voice cracking. “Why couldn’t you have stayed with Paul today? Then you would have been together when Brittany died, and then I’d know for sure you weren’t the killer, and I’d believe more of what you say, and….” A hiccup interrupted my ramblings, and I fought back a new surge of tears.
“I know, I know.” Adam sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I’ve been kicking myself over it all day. It was stupid of me, of us, and if I could go back and change things, I would.” He wiped the raindrops from his brow. “There’s nothing I can say right now to make this any better or convince you to trust me, and I don’t blame you. I just wanted to bring you some food and see if you were okay.”
My throat tightened, and I rubbed my eyes. “I’m not.”
Creases appeared in his forehead. “I probably wouldn’t admit it in front of the others, but I’m scared, too. But I keep thinking we’ve come this far and—”
“No. It doesn’t matter.” A nagging, terrible thought I’d been attempting to ignore fought its way to the surface, and the words started tumbling out too fast again. “Don’t you get it? Victor and I each knew the other hadn’t killed Brittany, and we gave each other alibis. He obviously wasn’t the murderer, and now he’s dead. Which means….” I swallowed and tried to keep my voice steady. “I’m next.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Sure, I do. It makes sense. Unless enough people believe in the multiple killer theory, they know I’m innocent. And if I’ve been cleared, and I’m not helping to muddle up everyone else’s suspicions, then I don’t really serve a purpose while alive, do I?” I sniffled, but the tears didn’t come. Either I was dehydrated or I’d resigned myself to my dismal fate. “So, I have a strong feeling I’ll be the next victim.”
The rain grew heavier, splattering against the balcony. Adam moved closer to the window, fixing me in an intense stare. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
I tilted my head to the side and hugged my arms to my chest. “How can you be so sure?”
Droplets clung to his dark lashes, but his gaze never wavered. “I’ll find a way to keep you safe. And, somehow, though I don’t know how yet, I’m going to prove to you I’m innocent. We’re going to get out of this alive.”
“I know, I know.” Adam sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I’ve been kicking myself over it all day. It was stupid of me, of us, and if I could go back and change things, I would.” He wiped the raindrops from his brow. “There’s nothing I can say right now to make this any better or convince you to trust me, and I don’t blame you. I just wanted to bring you some food and see if you were okay.”
My throat tightened, and I rubbed my eyes. “I’m not.”
Creases appeared in his forehead. “I probably wouldn’t admit it in front of the others, but I’m scared, too. But I keep thinking we’ve come this far and—”
“No. It doesn’t matter.” A nagging, terrible thought I’d been attempting to ignore fought its way to the surface, and the words started tumbling out too fast again. “Don’t you get it? Victor and I each knew the other hadn’t killed Brittany, and we gave each other alibis. He obviously wasn’t the murderer, and now he’s dead. Which means….” I swallowed and tried to keep my voice steady. “I’m next.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Sure, I do. It makes sense. Unless enough people believe in the multiple killer theory, they know I’m innocent. And if I’ve been cleared, and I’m not helping to muddle up everyone else’s suspicions, then I don’t really serve a purpose while alive, do I?” I sniffled, but the tears didn’t come. Either I was dehydrated or I’d resigned myself to my dismal fate. “So, I have a strong feeling I’ll be the next victim.”
The rain grew heavier, splattering against the balcony. Adam moved closer to the window, fixing me in an intense stare. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
I tilted my head to the side and hugged my arms to my chest. “How can you be so sure?”
Droplets clung to his dark lashes, but his gaze never wavered. “I’ll find a way to keep you safe. And, somehow, though I don’t know how yet, I’m going to prove to you I’m innocent. We’re going to get out of this alive.”
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