Monday, December 26, 2016

Friday, November 11, 2016

THE HOT ONE by Lauren Blakely

From the NYT Bestselling author of THE SEXY ONE, comes a sexy new standalone romance…

THE HOT ONE!

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Monday, November 7, 2016

Friday, November 4, 2016

HIS TO CHERISH by Stacey Lynn

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His to Cherish by Stacey Lynn

Series: Fireside #3 Publication Date: November 15th, 2016 Genre: Contemporary Romance Publisher: Loveswept

Sweet Escape by Nina Lane

You can meet Evan Stone, heir to the Sugar Rush Candy Company in SWEET ESCAPE on December 6th! In the meantime, check out the incredible cover below!

Saturday, October 29, 2016

BURIED SECRETS by J.C. Valentine

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Buried Secrets

by J.C. Valentine
Publication Date: November 29, 2016 
Genres: Adult, New Adult, Mystery, Thriller, YA, Suspense

Friday, October 28, 2016

GANGSTER MOLL by Bethany-Kris & Erin Ashley Tanner

Mile High KINK Book Club presents: Gangster Moll Cover Reveal

Gangster Moll

by Bethany-Kris & Erin Ashley Tanner 
Gun Moll #2 
Publication Date: November 14, 2016 
Genres: Adult, Mafia Romance, Interracial Romance, Erotic Romance

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

ANCHOR ME by J. Kenner ~ A Stark Novel

Are you ready for more Damien and Nikki? It’s a new chapter in the life of Nikki and Damien Stark, in ANCHOR ME releasing on APRIL 11, 2017!

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Monday, October 17, 2016

COLLECTING THE PIECES by L.A. Fiore



Title: Collecting the Pieces
Author: L.A. Fiore
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: By Hang Le
Cover Model: Franggy Yanez
Release Date: November 15, 2016

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Win Some, Lose Some by Shay Savage

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Here's a sneak peek at the first chapter of Elicit by M. Never ~ Cover Reveal
















Jett

The present

I'm startled awake by a shrill cry.

I glance at the clock glowing in the darkness. 3:17 AM. The ear-piercing shriek happens again, and London stirs, muttering profanities in her sleepy state. I place my hand on her back.

“Stay. I’ve got it.”

No protest. Only a relieved sigh as she rests her head back on the pillow.

I pad down the hallway bleary and barefoot, following the source of the disturbance. Flicking on the small lamb lamp, I meet the culprit’s awake blue eyes and gummy smile. She screams again, in excitement this time as I approach her.

“Little girl.” I hoist Shia up out of her crib. “You need to let your mommy rest. We thought your sister was bad, but I believe, my darling, you take the cake.” I sit in the pink and white striped glider with my wiggly six month old climbing up my chest. She just wants to be held. Always wants to be held. “You need to start crawling,”—I rock with her arms latched around my neck— “so the house can sleep.” I yawn, silently thanking the stars above I'm the only one she woke up.

A tiny giggle and happy feet are her response.

I stare down at her adorable chubby face as she stares up. “Eyes just like your mommy with insomnia to match. She never used to sleep, either.” I rock a little harder, whispering to her. “But she wanted you. She wanted you so much.” She chortles as I nuzzle her little neck. “She didn't think she deserved you. Or me or love or happiness. But I set her straight.” I smile haughtily to myself recalling the past. Recalling my wife and her strength despite all her struggles. All our struggles.

Shia fights falling asleep, breathing hard, squirming to stay awake.

“You’re not going to miss anything, baby.” I hum in her ear, coaxing her to relax. “We’ll all be here in the morning to love you.” I used to tell London the same thing when she couldn't sleep. Wouldn't sleep. Downright refused.

That seems like a lifetime ago, considering she sleeps like the dead now.

Also, my doing.

I rest my head on the back of the chair and close my eyes, hoping the smooth glide and my steady breathing will soothe the beast.

No such luck.

I add a lulling tone. This isn't the first time I’ve wrestled an alligator. I know the drill.

“What story shall I tell you tonight? Perhaps the princess one again?” I rock and rub her little butt littered with cupcakes on the onesie pajamas from Aunt Ellie and Uncle Kayne.

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess,” I start. “Who was controlled by an evil sorcerer…”

 

London

The past

 

I wish he would just kill me already.

I float in a black space of pain as my head is submerged underwater, my lungs burn desperate for air, and my body sodomized. The relentless drill of my Master’s hips and an iron grip on the back of my neck keeps me restrained. I start to unconsciously struggle as the rapid loss of oxygen suffocates me. My limbs spontaneously twitch as I fall away into a terrifying darkness. Please let this be it. Let the suffering end.

I welcome death. Or at least, the tease of it seconds before I completely black out.

I never reach the euphoric escape, because he knows exactly how long trap me in hell. Pulling my head out of the water, he beats into my abused little asshole as I sputter, cough, and choke until he comes. A stomach turning growl reverberates from his throat as he rips me open with one, lone punishing thrust. I nearly throw up from god-awful pain. As soon as he’s done with me, he lets go, allowing my limp body crash to the ground. I have no energy left to stand or fight or even live. I shiver, cold and naked on the dirty floor. A shell of the person I used to be. A person I barely remember.

After zipping his leather pants, he crouches down next to me. I cower. Master grabs a fist full of my hair and yanks so I look him directly the eyes. Dark, terrible, soulless eyes.

“Who are you?” he asks in his thick Russian accent.

“No one,” I immediately respond.

“What are you?”

“Nothing.”

And I believe it. I am nothing. He made it so.

His lips curl into a cruel smile. I've only ever seen half his face because of the mask he always wears reminiscent of the Phantom of the Opera.

“Such an obedient pet.” He tosses me away like the nobody I am. The nothing I mean to him.

“Go to bed,” he orders, and I instantly move despite the protest of my aching body and weak limbs. I crawl across the room—never, ever walk—to the cage in the corner. I know better. I know the consequences of disobedience. I scurry inside, cold and wet with cum leaking down the inside of my thighs. Dirty is just how he likes me. Master slams the door closed and locks it behind me. I look up at him like a pathetic trapped animal.

He knows that's exactly what I am too. That smug thought reflects in his empty hazel eyes. I'm his property, his pet.

“Lie down.”

I do as I'm told, curling into the fetal position. I don't have much room. This four foot by four foot metal square is where I live.

And I'm nearly five-foot-eight.

“Good girl.” The arrogance in his tone is disgusting. I don't show my disdain. Just fake forlorn with the pitiful part I play. Is it still a part? Or is who I’ve become? That line has blurred in recent months.

I watch as my Master saunters out of the room. Alone again. I cry my desolate tears inside. I’ve learned my lesson. No sadness or fight or voice. My liberties have been stolen away. I curl tighter on the thin scratchy blanket, struggling to get warm. It's always cold. I'm always naked. Always hungry. Always desperate. You have no idea what I had to do to get this small everyday item most people take for granted.

He’s a monster.

I don't know how long he’s owned me, but it feels like a lifetime. I can't even remember how I got here. I just woke up one day, shortly after I turned sixteen, in this very spot. In my frilly pajamas, still an innocent girl.

I'm not innocent anymore. He saw to that. The first day stripping my dignity away as he made me shed my clothes. I cried, I fought, I screamed, but ultimately, he won. Overpowering me in both mind and body.

He punishes me severely if I disobey. Verbally, physically, sexually. Making it crystal clear who is Master and who is slave in this twisted arrangement.

I’ve been forced to perform numerous sexual acts like a circus freak. With men, with women, with him. I was taught to pleasure but never be pleasured. That is not my purpose. I was forced to submit, to obey, to satisfy however instructed. To absorb the pain, unless it's pain he wanted to see.

He’s good at pain. At demoralizing. At demeaning.

He thrives on it. Lives for it. I feel his satisfaction after every horrific interaction we have.

I'll never understand how this became my life. My hell.

I shiver until I fall asleep.

Dreaming of nothing more than a hot shower and a warm bed.

Add Elicit to your TBR.


https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31737890-elicit