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Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Taken Identity by Raven McAllan



Title: Taken Identity
Author: Raven McAllan
Publisher: Totally Bound
Genre: Suspense, BDSM













I was rummaging through a box the other day and found a couple of old diaries. Now before you get all excited and think I have lots of deep and meaningful secrets to share, one glance reminded me I wasn't big on writing a lot in them. I preferred scribbling stories, even then, it seems.

These diaries are a few years apart. It seemed even then I hated liver, loved sunshine, and avoided fairground rides that were any more than a sedate roundabout. Once a wuss, always a wuss. I still go white at the thought of some of those things. (I'm the person who kept her eyes shut on a roller coaster, got off, threw up and said never again.)

Weirdly both of the diaries mention a kiss. The earlier one I was around thirteen or fourteen—and no I'm not saying exactly how old or who the boy was. After all how galling to read. ***** and I kissed. What on earth do you do with noses? His got in the way too much.

Ah well, it's to be hoped I learned soon. And for that matter so did the boy in question. I didn’t report that, and it's long lost in the dim and distant past.

The next diary I was a few years older. Seventeen or eighteen I reckon. Okay, yes, I can check the year on the diary, but once more I'm protecting identities.

This time I'd written. Yuk, **** is such a wet kisser. All sloppy and well yukky. (You'll see my vocabulary wasn't as extensive then). I'd added…Pity, cos he's groovy otherwise. Right then! I have a feeling that relationship didn't last very long.

When I was older, I started to keep diaries on holiday. They come in very handy when Dh says things like, “can you remember where...?” Or “what was the name of that restaurant in…?” For years, I recorded where we went and my impressions of the place, our outings and lots of the minutiae of the day-to-day things you do on holiday. But somehow, never a day-to-day—or even week-to-week—diary of what we did.

Which is a pity

What's even more of a pity is that once I got a lightweight laptop and began to take it away on holiday with me, I stopped writing the diaries. Okay, my handwriting has always been a bit suspect—think demented gnat dipped in ink and let loose on the paper—but to stop altogether? It wasn't a conscious decision, and sadly I didn't transfer my thoughts into typewritten words. I just stopped.
I take the diary away… it just stays empty.

So, if I were in Jules situation, I'd be snookered. Thank goodness she's better at diary keeping than I was.

Blurb for Taken Identity

If someone steals your identity and marries a sex god and that sex god husband shows up at your door…do you get to keep him?

Jules has no memory of marrying a sex god—and no woman is that forgetful.

So when the devastatingly handsome Gray turned up on her doorstep looking for his wife and calling said wife by Jules’ name, Jules wondered briefly if she’d landed in an alternative universe. She knows she’s not his wife and so does he, but apparently someone with her name and history is. Is it a case of coincidence or did his missing wife ‘borrow’ Jules’ life?

Even though the dominant Gray sends her knickers aflame with just one look, with a missing wife in the equation, Jules knows there’s no chance of finding out what else he could achieve.

There’s only one thing to do—unravel the mystery and try to keep their hands off each other in the meantime. The first may well prove far easier than the latter.

Excerpt from Taken Identity:

Jules dug into her capacious bag and brought out a series of notebooks. “Diaries,” she said, in answer to their unspoken questions. Really, men were so predictable in their responses. A raised eyebrow and a disbelieving look at anything they wouldn’t have thought of. “I’m one of those weird women who write things down in a book, not just on my iPhone or laptop. So, when are we looking at? Yup, here we are, just over three years ago. Month?”

“July, when we met, May of the following year when we married. November when she buggered off,” Gray said succinctly.

“Well, that’s concise.” He was, she realized, getting less pedantic in his speech the longer they were together. “Therefore, she must have decided to be me sometime before that. I wonder how far back I need to go. D’you know anything that would help?”

“The one thing I have noticed is that I haven’t found any trace of her before I found you. Not that that’s a lot of help,” Sean said.

“As a matter of great interest, how did you find me all of a sudden? I mean, if you’ve been hunting Julia Frayne since she left Gray, why has it taken you this long? I’m on Google.” Their attitude annoyed her. How up yourself do you sound now, Jules? “And Frayne isn’t that common a name. I’m the only one in the local phone book.”

Gray looked somewhat embarrassed. “Yes, well, er... Oh shit. I—we haven’t been looking that long. I mean, for God’s sake, how do you admit the woman you thought was madly in love with you has made a right idiot of you, left you and taken the family jewels?”

Jules and Sean burst out laughing.

“What?” Gray must have realized what he’d said because he colored and gave a short, self-conscious laugh. “Yeah, well, the way I felt when I found out, you could have said she had. Put me off women for a long time, I can tell you—with the exception of one fiasco I am not going to discuss. Talk about being taken for a ride, twice. However, I have learned my lesson well. No more, never again.” He sat back, folded his arms over his chest and swung his chair on two legs. The action tightened his muscles and drew attention to his body.

“I thought perhaps we could get an idea of when she became me and might find a clue in my diaries,” Jules explained her thought process. “Long shot, but hey, we’ve bugger all else to go on.”

Like the sound of Taken Identity? Buy it here.



A multi-published author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.

She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge. As once she is writing she is oblivious to everything else, her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.




Enter Totally Bound’s June blog tour competition for the chance to win an eBook of your choice, not including box sets or anthologies.






Monday, June 22, 2015

Remy’s Painter by A.C.Katt





Remy’s Painter
(Werewolves of Manhattan Series, Book 2)
Author: A.C.Katt 








~Synopsis~
 Ian Sullivan is in trouble. His father and brother died under questionable circumstances. When he died, his brother owed a mobster quite a sum of money. Now the mobster wanted to collect from Ian and if he doesn’t, he’ll take Ian as his boy toy instead.

Ian’s only hope is having his estimate on painting a large house accepted by the homeowner. Little does Ian know that the house belongs to a Rémy Clavier, a loup garou, who when he meets Ian realizes he’s found his mate.

Now all Rémy has to do is take care of the mobster and convince Ian, a human, to accept both him and his wolf.


~Excerpt~
 As a wolf, he was young to be the Alpha of a region. Rémy was only seventy, but he was well trained for this job by the Chief Alpha himself. It was a tribute to Rémy’s acumen that he was asked to serve on the council as Alpha not only for his pack but also for the Northeastern Canadian and American packs at such young an age. He would have been content to stay as Alpha of the Catskill wolf pack and within his own territory, but destiny and the gods had other ideas. There was no one else to sit on the council and be in charge of the packs. Rémy was it.

Rémy sat in the kitchen. He heard Roland go to the front door only to find the painter had gone to the rear. The painter is here. He seems too young to be able to do such a large job. He’s at the kitchen door. He parked in the alley. Roland told him through the Alpha link.

I’ll answer the door and let him into the kitchen. Young or not, the company comes highly recommended.

Rémy opened the back door and stood by the stairs. Ian Sullivan stuck out his hand to shake Rémy’s. Rémy smelled green apples and cinnamon. They’re fingertips touched and Rémy’s inner wolf said, Mate—Mine.


~Video~
Thank you to the talented Becca Manuel at Bibliophile Productions for this amazing video.
Remy’s Painter Video
https://vimeo.com/129319554


~Buy Links~
Werewolves of Manhatten Series

  
~Meet A.C. Katt~
AC Katt was born in New York City’s Greenwich Village. €She remembers sitting at the fountain in Washington Square Park listening to folk music while they passed the hat. At nine, her parents dragged her to New Jersey where she grew up, married and raised four children and became a voracious reader of romantic fiction. €At one time she owned over two thousand novels, until she and her husband took themselves and the cat to New Mexico for their health and its great beauty.
Blog Link:  A.C. Katt’s Blog

Saturday, June 13, 2015

Meet: Legendary Skies Band







Novarupta is the self-titled track on their debut album

Legendary Skies Band Members
Frank Moreno – Guitar
Eric Holtz – Guitar
Paul White – Guitar
David Hinojosa – Bass
Jeff Bononcini – Drums
Former Member: Raul Ramirez - Drums 







What are your 2 favorite careers?
I think that all of us would love to either be: A. Full time musicians or B. Full time teachers, we all kind of focus in those directions, except for Jeff who would probably like to be a salesman.

What are some of your other favorite activities?
We get together to have fajitas and beer with our buddies. Sometimes a few of us have gone kayaking together, which is a blast.

What is the hardest thing you ever had to do?
Our band is quite functional, but I feel like getting our first record finished was a process. It was a lot of learning.

What is your favorite song?
My favorite song off of our album is the title track, “Novarupta”. It has a very complex yet calming feel to it.

Are you usually late, early or right on time?
On tour we were always right on time, our tour manager soon learned that we were timely people and started getting more relax about call times.

Are you happy with your life for the most part right now?
We just got off of an amazing tour with Blue October and now we are working on more music, so everything is great!

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
I think we would probably like to tour Europe for a good while. Since we are instrumental, the language barrier for other countries simply vanishes.

What do you think would be the hardest venture for you to give up on?
We are very dedicated to our band and bettering ourselves. I think that if we could do nothing else, we would strive to become better musicians.








Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Spellbound by Jacob Z. Flores



Spellbound: The Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge:
Book One
Author: Jacob Z. Flores
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Genre: M/M Paranormal
Release Date: May 27, 2015 












  
 BLURB
 Mason Blackmoor just can’t compete with his brothers, much less his father. They represent the epitome of black magic, strong, dark, and wicked, and though Mason tries to live up to his respected lineage, most of the spells he casts go awry. To make matters worse, his active power has yet to kick in. While his brothers wield lightning and harness the cold, Mason sits on the sidelines, waiting for the moment when he can finally enter the magical game.

When a dead body is discovered on the football field of his high school, Mason meets Drake Carpenter, the new kid in town. Drake’s confident demeanor and quick wit rub Mason the wrong way. Drake is far too self-assured for someone without an ounce of magical blood in his body, and Mason aims to teach him a lesson—like turn him into a roach. And if he’s lucky, maybe this time Mason won’t be the one turned into an insect.

Not surprisingly, the dislike is mutual and Drake does nothing to dispel Mason's suspicion that the sexy boy with a southern drawl is somehow connected to the murder.

If only Mason didn’t find himself inexplicably spellbound whenever they are together, they might actually find out what danger hides in the shadows. 

Jacob Z. Flores lives a double life. During the day, he is a respected college English professor and mid-level administrator. At night and during his summer vacation, he loosens the tie and tosses aside the trendy sports coat to write man on man fiction, where the hardass assessor of freshmen level composition turns his attention to the firm posteriors and other rigid appendages of the characters in his fictional world.

 Summers in Provincetown, Massachusetts, provide Jacob with inspiration for his fiction. The abundance of barely clothed man flesh and daily debauchery stimulates his personal muse. When he isn’t stroking the keyboard, Jacob spends time with his daughter. They both represent a bright blue blip in an otherwise predominantly red swath in south Texas.

You can follow Jacob’s musings on his blog at http://jacobzflores.com or become a part of his social media network by visiting http://www.facebook.com/jacob.flores2

GIVEAWAY

Jacob is giving away an ebook from his backlist at each stop, blogger selects winner and also a Grand Prize $25 Amazon Gift Card through Rafflecopter. 






Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Club Revenge by J.M. Dabney

Club Revenge by J.M. Dabney
SERIES: Dysfunction at its Finest, Book 1
PUBLISHER:  Stiff Rain Press
RELEASE DATE:  April 23, 2015
GENRE:  Paranormal Dark Fantasy/Horror
TAGS:  Vampires, Shifters, Cults, Dark Fantasy, Horror
HEAT LEVEL (1 being no sexual content, 5 being erotica): 5
PAIRING: Female/Female (Part 1) Male/Female (Part 2)











BOOK LINKS :
Stiff Rain Press |Are | Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Barnes & Noble 


Let me start by saying thank you to Literary Nymphs for letting me share my novel with you today. Club Revenge took many years to write. The idea for it started as a crazy concept and exploded into a monster. CR almost never made it from Word to Stiff Rain Press. I always thought this wouldn’t work. Who wants to read about a Dysfunctional Paranormal Family? Amora is so unlikable.
I’ll tell you a bit about the characters involved.
Amora Medina-Jackyl, she’s the Matriarch of her small Clan of two. Her parents and siblings were murdered, and then the Order of Angelus kidnapped her. They held her prisoner and turned her into nothing more than a monster. She hides the pain behind her bitchiness and her need for retribution. A monster who fights for the ones that can’t fight for themselves. Yes, one part shows she’s craves the battle—the bloodshed, yet another exposes rare glimpses of something softer. Her vulnerability comes in the need she has to feel peace. Amora knows she’ll pay for her sins, but all the blood on her hands would be worth it for simply one day of peace.

That’s where Lark comes into play, she’s a member of the cult responsible for the deaths of Amora’s family. She’s sweet, almost innocent, and maybe a bit naïve to seek out a monster for help. When she meets Amora she knows there’s more behind the bright blue eyes than what she was taught by the Elders. Lark couldn’t deny Amora was as dangerous as rumored, although she couldn’t make herself not care for the Vampire. She refused to believe the feelings she was developing were wrong—she loved the monster.

Ripper, Amora’s son, grew up taught family was to be protected above all else, even his own existence. The concept of family wasn’t one born of blood, but of battles fought back to back and the bond borne of it. Violence wasn’t a stranger, and he’d accepted it. Prophesies foretold, impossible decisions taken out of his hands, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Because of fate he held himself back, protected himself and the ones he loved by escaping and staying hidden from his family’s enemies. It all worked out fine, until he realized he needed acceptance. To be more than a monster, and that approval came in the guise of one woman.

Tasha lived and worked among the preternatural creatures. It was a reality she’d accepted for a decade. Her boss and friend, Amora, treated her well and brought her into the family that existed inside Club Revenge. The one thing she couldn’t accept was the feelings she had for her boss’s son. His appearances home were rare and she could almost forget her attraction to the younger-appearing man. Ripper would flirt and she’d knock him down with her usual sarcasm. That was until Ripper decided to ignore her act and claim what he assumed was his. Fighting love turned out to be an impossible battle, especially when the other person fought so hard for her.

This is the beginning of a series of several books, Amora and Lark, Ripper and Tasha only scratch the surface. Conspiracy theories, cults, a lot of carnage, and love, it all existed within the pages of Club Revenge. I hope if you take the time to get to know The Family that you’ll love them as much as I did and do. Thank you.

BLURB:
Amora Medina-Jackyl and her son, Ripper, know one thing well--vengeance. They inflicted pain without mercy to those who deserved the punishment. Although, they lived by one motto, family is to be protected above all else. When a child, an ancient cult murdered Amora's parents and siblings. They never knew the Hell they brought down on themselves that one brutal night.

Amora was many things in her four centuries. A daughter and a sister, a mother, yet she was best known as a killer. When she meets her end, Amora will have hundreds, maybe thousands of lives to answer for. Her only wish is to find one moment of peace. She denies her need as much as she fights to protect it. When the one woman who can bring her serenity comes into her life, can Amora destroy century old walls to let her in?

Ripper has watched his mother fight savagely for others. He learned lessons in revenge from the moment of his birth; Ripper was his mother's son. Yet he has a curse hanging over his head. A prophesy that wouldn't be denied. He wants some semblance of normal. When he can't deny his need for the one woman he's kept his distance from would his love cause pain or pleasure?

When some truths come to light, the very reality of the family changes. Can they know something other than the taste of revenge and loss?

EXCERPT:
Smoke, flesh turned to ash and laughter met her screams. Her body bowed upward as she fought against the heaviness of chains. Screams and hisses turned to utterances of nonsense as she savored a moment’s reprieve before a broad body blocked the single, narrow window. Skin crackled and blisters seared her paper-thin flesh.

“Amora!” Her head thrashed with confusion, they never called her name with such concern; they never called her by her name at all. “Amora, please!” Terror, someone afraid for her, the sound beautiful in the torturous day. A scream pierced the cell as fire licked at her body; fingers and toes dug into soft, damp soil.

“You won’t break me! I’ll die first,” she hissed with her last stores of rage. Agony stole a bit more of her mind. Soft hands stroked her face, a comforting touch.

“Amora, come back to me please.” The plea was soft as tender lips touched hers.

Dream and reality battled for supremacy, memory pulled deeper, yet gentleness tried to lead her back from the precipice of darkness. Her crazed mind desperately tried to move closer to that voice calling to her, whispering to her of loving things. Hands seized her arms and the chains broke as she circled a slender throat and squeezed. The slight pain of nail pricks caused her lids to slam open. Frightened wide eyes in an ashen face stared at her and hands gripped her wrists.

“Lark!” She released the woman’s throat and searched frantically for damage, her fevered mind still lost partly in the past. “Are you insane? Never do that again.”

Her hands and fingertips caressed over Lark as the woman lay gasping on her bed. “Can you swallow?”

Her only answer was a jerky nod, until Lark spoke in a rough and cracked whisper. “I heard you scream.” Reality came back in a rush as she noticed her position. She lay between lush thighs. The T-shirt she’d let Lark borrow rested high on the sweet curve of Lark’s belly.

Lust gut-punched her and she rested her weight on one arm as she pushed the hem higher.
Small breasts were bared in the dim shuttered room; Lark’s tightly furled nipples were orbited by pale pink areolas that darkened to deep coral at the pointed peaks. She couldn’t help but lick her lips as she lowered her head to flick the hard tip of her tongue over one. The texture caused her to growl as Lark shivered and arched. “Pretty.”

Lowering her head she wrapped her lips around the hard bud and rolled her tongue over it. Amora sank her fangs into Lark’s tender flesh and tasted the perfect flavor of a few drops of blood on her tongue. It was the heady flavor of lust perfectly infused with fear and she increased the pressure for another taste. It was sweeter than the first time.

Lark’s trembling thighs gripped Amora’s hips. She angled her hips down and pushed her stomach to the heated folds. Wet cotton was warm where it met her cool skin and the scent of Lark’s arousal made all others pale. She sat up and rested back on her heels, draping Lark’s thighs over hers and scored the satiny skin inside with elongated nails until she met the creases where thighs met panties. “Is there nothing you’re going to say? Perhaps tell me no.” 



Meet the Author
By day, she’s an introverted cook hiding out in her kitchen in the middle of nowhere Ohio, by night and any free time she may have, she is a writer of mainly LGBTQ Fiction and Erotica. Although, she’s equal opportunity when it comes to telling a story, she'll even write a bit of straight erotic romance when the mood strikes.

She has been writing for years in old notebooks. At the age of eight, she wrote the worst poem in the history of poetry, but it sparked her love for writing. She reads too much and loves to get lost in other worlds and her favorite stories have to include laughter and at least one reader doing a double take.

Thirty-something, forever restless, she uses her stories to ground herself, and find her place of peace.



Rafflecopter Giveaway 
Winner 1 - One Copy of Club Revenge and a 10.00 Amazon Gift Card
Winner 2 - One eCopy of Club Revenge
Winner 3 - One eCopy of Club Revenge



Monday, June 1, 2015

Bridged by Love By Nancy Corrigan




Book Title: Bridged by Love
Series Name: Kagan Wolves
Series Number: 1
Author: Nancy Corrigan
Tags: Shape-Shifters; Werewolves
Publication Date: July 21st 2015










Kagan Wolves, Book 1 

From the moment he was born, Nic Kagan’s future was sealed. He’ll accept a mate, have kids, and eventually take over his father’s role as pack alpha. There’s just one problem.

Long ago, his heart settled on Riley, the pack’s human doctor and honorary member. Except only half of him can have her. The other half—his wolf—won’t give a weak non-shifter female a second sniff.

No one—human or shifter—has left a mark on Riley’s soul like Nic. But with his father hospitalized, any hope things could work out between them is slipping away. Yet Riley understands something else about pack life. Power isn’t always a physical gift; love is just as strong. What she and Nic have is worth fighting for.

With rival threats mounting, Nic realizes he can’t simply turn his back on Riley. Though his wolf could tear his heart out for it, he must fight for what he wants before he loses his mate. His pack. Maybe even his sanity.

Warning: Contains a reluctant alpha with only one roadblock between his heart and the woman he loves—biology. And a woman who isn’t giving up on him, even if it means risking her life to fool Mother Nature.

Excerpt (R)

“Do you like what you see?”
Riley’s husky voice drew him back from the edge. Tension drained from his limbs. He yanked her panties off, tossing them across the room. “Yeah, baby, I do. I like it a lot.”
Using his thumbs, he swiped the length of her lips from bottom to top, spreading her folds and searing the memory of her perfect sex into his mind. Pink and glistening, she looked damn inviting. He knew every inch of her body, inside and out. He’d memorized her every trigger point and learned how far he could push her before pleasure turned to pain, but the sight of her, wet and welcoming, always left him in awe.

“Fucking beautiful.” His mouth watered. The small taste he’d gotten from licking his fingers hadn’t been enough to satisfy his craving. He needed to lap up her spilled cream and drink of her release. The urge took over, one he couldn’t resist. He bent and licked her cleft. Her rich flavor hit him. He groaned.

So damn good.

He wanted to get drunk on her. More licks, more swipes, and she writhed for him. He laid a hand on her lower stomach and pushed, urging her to lie back and let him pleasure her. She followed his direction. No hesitation. He slid her bottom to the very edge of the counter and massaged her hips as he teased her lower lips with slow strokes of his tongue over her cleft.
More sweet cream flowed, an irresistible lure. He dipped the tip of his tongue into her opening, and her body gripped the small invasion. Overly sensitive from her last orgasm, every touch wound her higher. A few more thrusts, and she’d come for him. The trembling in her thighs told him how close she was to finding ecstasy.

Not yet. He hadn’t fulfilled his craving.

He withdrew his tongue and repeated the languid exploration of her sex, dipping into her hot center on each pass, but not lingering. And she writhed for him. Clutched at his forearms. Moaned his name.

Perfect. She’s perfect.

He dropped to his knees and draped her legs over his shoulders, spreading her wide. The arousal waiting for him to feast on coated her cleft. With his hands under her bottom, he tipped her hips, bringing her sex closer, and kissed her lower lips as deeply as he’d taken her mouth moments before.

“Oh God. More. Give me more. Feels so good.”

Her praise registered in his hazy mind. He might’ve smiled, but he couldn’t tear himself away from her sex. Her flavor drugged him. Her moans enflamed him. Nothing else mattered beyond his need to worship her body and make her wild.
Make her come. Hard. Exactly as she’d demanded.

Get the book at…
For more purchase links, visit my website.



Connect with Nancy



A little about Nancy
A true romantic at heart, Nancy Corrigan is convinced there’s a knight in shining armor for every woman (or man), but you won’t find damsels in distress in her stories. She adores pairing alpha heroes with women strong enough to match them and bring them to their knees. She also enjoys flipping the traditional roles in romances because her motto is—love and people should never be forced to conform to anyone’s norm.
She holds a degree in chemistry and has worked in research but now focuses on ensuring quality. She considers it the perfect outlet for her as she’s the first to admit she has some OCD tendencies. It carries over into her writing life too. While engrossed in a novel, she has a habit of forgetting to eat and sleep. Fortunately, she’s married to her own knight in shining armor who understands her oddities and loves her anyway. They reside in Pennsylvania with their three children, dog, snake and guinea pigs. Her other interests include tattoos, animals, classic cars and all things spooky and sexy.
           
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